Infernal Dominion
by sugarhigh92
Summary: Doomed for life, might just be what you desired. Life played a sick joke on the one and only, Draco Malfoy. Being a Veela, at 25, was not what he had in mind and having a certain hot-headed Gryffindor as his mate was just pure torture. Read and Review Please.
1. Surprise

**Infernal Dominion**

 **1\. Surprise**

 ** _"Some surprises shock you to the core. They are of the vicious kind."_**

Malfoys are a protective possessive family. They know it. The world has accepted that. What with all the centuries old jewels and paintings still safely adorned and stored in Malfoy Manor and Malfoy family vaults. Oh yeah, they've got more than one family vault at Gringotts. Several actually. And lets just not even talk about the individual vaults of each Malfoy.

However, the most shocking of all, is the Malfoy engagement ring. The huge, finely cut, emerald stone, surrounded by a total of seventeen small star-shaped diamonds. No other engagement ring has ever been worn by a Malfoy wife. It has been handed down for generations, starting all the way from Duke Gabriel Malfoi, the first Malfoy, who had the ring custom made for his bride, from the French goblins. The ring was beyond beautiful, with the word ' ** _Mine'_** intricately engraved on the underside. But the ring was so much more than an expensive jewel with the marking, it was a work of art and magic. The ring was infused with centuries old magic, which was detailed, deviously dark and made the wearer completely bonded with the presenter.

The curses ensnared in the ring conveniently ensured the witch's true loyalty and whereabouts to his true master, in this case, the Malfoy who gave the ring to his woman, who could only take it off, once worn, if allowed by her husband or after her own death, or if her son gets engaged. This tidbit about the ring however, was not a popularly publicized fact and only the family members knew about it, hence a long line of females fawning over the Malfoy heir. Currently however the ring was in the possession of one Narcissa Malfoy.

Her son, the youngest Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, was like his ancestors in all things, including the possessive streak. So naturally when Lucius and Narcissa found out that their son was a part-veela, as well, they were more than a little worried about his poor mate.

Narcissa was sitting on the cozy sofa next to the fireplace in her room. The creamy color of the bedroom walls always had a calming effect on her but not today. Today she was worried about the poor girl who would be her sons mate. She had found out about him only an hour ago by the letter from him. Remembering the amount of profanity her son had used in the informing letter had her blushing again.

She loved her only child to bits. Primarily the reason why he was so spoiled. But where a spoiled rich, strikingly handsome cunning Malfoy is a danger to all girls, a veela Malfoy is just a hazard of massive proportions for his mate. And when you add very convenient and barbaric veela mating laws into the mix, its just plain injustice.

Those laws were the major reason behind the tense mothers frown. She cursed her ancestors for being behind the atrocious laws. Oh her son got the veela trait from her side. He was the first veela in the Malfoy family. He got the trait from the Blacks.

She gave the letter from her son, sprawled on the table, a disgusted look and said to her impeccably dressed husband, in a strained voice, "Draco will screw this up if we don't talk to him. He'll hurt the girl and in turn himself if he follows these inhumane Veela laws."

Sitting straight on the bed, Lucius Malfoy gave his wife a pained look and groaned, "You know him Cissa, he won't listen to us, not in this case." Rubbing his temples with his fingertips, he tiredly continued, "You better pray that his mate is a smart pureblood witch, who could handle your son. I'll even settle for a half-blood. God knows how few and utterly stupid the pureblood girls of Draco's age are."

Narcissa cried, "I think, I'll actually kill myself if its Pansy. "

"Oh you don't have to worry about her. She could never be our boys mate. Draco is actually disgusted by her presence so she couldn't possibly be his mate."

"Well, as long as its a smart pretty girl I'll be fine."

"And not a mudblood, I mean muggle-born. Oh God please, it better not be a muggle-born. "

Narcissa nodded in agreement, silently praying for her son's happiness.

 **...**

Draco Malfoy was fuming in his office. He couldn't believe his fucked up luck. Just this morning he had gotten this months witch-weekly, which had his face plastered on the magazine's cover. He was this years most eligible bachelor. Then at lunch time he had closed the biggest deal of his career with the Ministry. Malfoy Empire was now the sole manufacturer and supplier of all Ministry Employees official robes. The empire would be doubled in the coming year if all goes well.

But on his way home in the evening, he was so ridiculously happy with himself that he made the mistake of going to the Diagon alley to get some books. He entered 'Flourish and Blotts', and that's when he smelled his mate and his claws came out. His long, steel-sharp veela claws.

Before he could turn around and look at his mate, before he could even give the most decadent scent a name, before he could fully process the gravity of the predicament that he had gotten himself in, he just rushed out of the store and literally apparated right into his office.

Still angry, he got out of his long-back office chair and slammed his fist in the wall, which cracked with the impact and his knuckles started bleeding. How could this possibly be happening to him? Why the fuck now? He already knew the answers to all the questions going through his head. He was a veela from his mothers side. Blacks have veela blood in them but its mostly a recessive trait. Also there is not a set time limit to part-veela's coming out which is why Draco Malfoy came to know that he is a part-fucking-veela at 25. There are many theories behind it but none proven for why it is that way. Veela's don't generally publicize the facts. It just happens when it fucking happens.

He wished he hadn't ever gone to that bookstore. He wouldn't be a veela right now if it hadn't been for that visit. He wouldn't be going through this ache in his chest which was too intense to ignore and, he knew, was because of his mate. His mind had registered her scent, which was so painfully delicious that his blood was craving for her. The veela part of him viciously wanted to claim her as his, right now. The more sane side didn't even know who she is.

He had an idea though. Okay so deep down he already knew who she is but that part definitely didn't want to come out of its hiding place. He shook his head to clear his mind but in the process his gaze fell on the unopened letter on the desk.

He had been debating on whether he should look inside. But realizing he has no other choice, he furiously ripped the letter open and looked at it. It was a response to his letter to Blaise.

 _Draco_

 _Listen mate, I couldn't get the original copy of the law but the gist of it is that you could claim your mate anytime, anywhere and anyhow you want. You have complete power over her. You can carry the mating process with or without her willingness. Basically she is your property now. You can do whatever you want and nobody can touch you. The law protects you. And the only thing that you can't do is kill her, which you wouldn't anyway because that'll end your extra precious Malfoy life too. That's basically it._

 _Blaise_

 _P.S: Who is the unlucky girl?;)_

This was good news. He has all the power. Bad news was that his mate was the brightest witch of her age. Oh how he hated that woman. She had plagued him his entire life and now she was his fucking mate. Since first year at Hogwarts he had hated and loved her on equal levels. But as he grew up he squashed his love for her and replaced it with hateful obsession and now this was retribution.

If he were being honest with himself, he had desired that witch for too long, but he knew they could never be together, for a number of reasons. His status, her blood. His passion for her, her hatred for him. Oh the list could go on. There was a time when all he wanted was her, right after the war, the obsession was humbling, but he knew with absolute surety that she would have nothing from him, for him, except her boiling loathing. So he stepped down, tried to forget about her. He had been trying and failing for so many years now.

Now, she was his mate. He wondered if it was a blessing or a torment. He would eventually have her but the waiting would be the death of him.

Definitely torment.

Closing his eyes and breathing heavily, he thought that he was in deep hell but by Merlin, he would ensure that she pays for the obsession, the pain, the problems that her existence has caused him. He would make it hard for her.

The Veela laws were useless, he would never force her into a relationship with him. He could never exert his will upon her like that. He cared too damn much. Painfully much. So he had to convince her of his true intentions. Not only his life, his happiness hangs in the balance. But she doesn't know that so he could have some fun along the way.

Delighting in the impending confrontation, he grabbed his cloak from the back of the chair and left his room. It was time to meet the mate.

...

 **A/N**

 **I hope you guys liked it.**

 **I am done with the whole story so other chapters will be uploaded soon.**

 **Pleeeease Review. They keep me going.**

 **Sorry for the mistakes.**


	2. Realization

**2\. Realization**

 ** _"It doesn't take long for the predator to become the prey, in the battles of heart."_**

He had been standing outside the building for an hour now. Glaring at anything and everything that his steely eyes would land upon. Patience was not his strongest suit. He wasn't scared of confronting the little mudblood but Harry Bloody Potter was inside with her and he had no intention of having a duel with the 'the boy who lived'. Sometimes he just wished that the war-hero had died in the war. He would've truly loved Potter if he had been a war-martyr. But well you can't have everything you wished for, even if you were a Malfoy.

Besides, what was the wonder boy doing in her house, at this late hour? Doesn't he have his own woman to get back to? Granted they are friends but hanging out at this time of night was just not acceptable. Wondering exactly what kind of friends they are, his imaginative mind came up with some very compromising images. His first reaction to the explicit thoughts was boiling fury, but he discarded the thoughts, realizing they both had too much Gryffindor in them to be infidels.

So pacing impatiently outside her building, his hands frequently going into his silver blonde hair, he passed the time doing what he did best. Scheming and Plotting. Oh how he owned up to the Slytherin standards. He was the epitome of Slytherin-ness, Salazar would be proud. And he felt giddy every time he came up with a particularly devious plan to hurt the witch. Besides the law was in his favor. He would have her wrapped around his little finger, doing his bidding like an elf, only with better looks.

The thing was that she was _His_ now, and even though he took sterling care of his property and she would be his greatest possession, closest to his heart, it would be on his conditions. He would be the one in control. He might not be a rapist but he sure as hell was a high-handed tyrant. She'll accept that soon enough, have to break her resolve first.

Seeing Potter had left, he finally apparated in front of her door and knocked. The door opened with a loud creak and she was there, wearing a red silk blouse with black fitted office pants. Her attire, not quite up to the Malfoy standards but not as prudish as her Hogwarts days either. She at least looked pretty. Okay maybe that was an understatement. He would stab himself before he'd say it out loud but the girl had become breathtakingly beautiful. She was pretty in Hogwarts, in an awkward shy sort of away. But now she was a petite goddess. Which only made him hate, love, hate her even more. She wasn't supposed to look this good. It made matters even worse for him, as if they weren't already.

Without looking up at him she carelessly said, "I swear Harry, you forget some... ". Finally registering who was at the door, she came to a sudden halt, her eyes wide with shock and words stuck in throat.

They hadn't seen each other in the seven years since the war. They took such different professions that their paths never crossed. And now here he was looking down on her. He knew, she was in shock so he kept giving her a blazing look, relishing in the fact that he'll be breaking the bitch soon enough.

She gulped and eyed him suspiciously, "What are you doing here Malfoy?" she breathed.

He forcefully pushed past her and surprisingly in the shocked state that she was in, she let him. He entered the apartment, and surveyed the living room, feigning indifference. The entire left wall of the room was covered with shelves upon shelves stacked with books. On closer inspection he registered that they were alphabetized. The rest of the area was cozy and freakishly neat. The surroundings were so like her, her nature that he couldn't stop himself and barked a laugh.

Gripping his ribs, he finally turned and gave her his trademark smirk, "You need to work on your etiquettes, Granger. A lot. That's no way to greet your Master."

Standing in the middle of the lounge, hands on her hips and fuming she snarled, "Get the fuck out of my home Malfoy. You are not welcome here."

His smirk grew at the glare that she gave him. Breathing heavily she had stepped aside and was waiting for him to leave quietly. Little minx was too naive to think that he would just leave, because she said so. She needs to learn her place.

He narrowed his eyes at her and in the blink of an eye, grabbed her and pushed her against the wall. Her back hit it with a thud and she flinched. He kept looking down into her eyes and finally whispered in a deceptively soft voice, "Oh I am welcome. So very welcome, my mudblood."

He watched her protesting against his arms and held her even tighter, his arms like a hard stretched rope around her small frame.

"I'll give you a hint, you make a guess, alright?

Still in shock and a little scared of his menacing look, she stopped her fight to get free and nodded mutely, thinking it's better to just get the conversation over with so that he would leave.

He stepped back, raised his hand and grazed her cheek so lightly, it was like feather touch, almost a caress. And then his claws came out. His long scary Veela claws.

He kept his gaze on her face and swam in her misery. He could actually hear her brain functioning on an overdrive. Her face was like an uppercase large font, book at that instant and a number of emotions passed over it. Bewilderment. Understanding. Shock. Fear. And then finally anger. His remained the same, a cruel smile which was growing by the second.

She brought her tiny shaking hands to his chest and pushed him away.

With trembling lips, she cried, "No. Please God no."

He laughed loudly, still staring at her, thinking the bitch was smart. She knew he was veela but she also knew the purpose of his visit. She knew that she was doomed. That she was his for life. This was just too much fun.

"I guess you guessed right then?" he drawled.

He pushed himself away from her and started circling her like a snake about to pounce on its prey. Letting his veela side take over, he grabbed the front of her deep red tank top and ripped it off in a swift motion. Thinking about mating with her right there and let the real party start, because after that she would not be able to resist him, his demands, and his orders and it won't be nonconsensual, not if she likes it. By the time he'll be done tonight, she'll be begging for more.

Giving her light gold skin a speculative look, he rubbed his tongue over his bottom lip. His eyes turned to molten steel and he grabbed her neck in a tight painful grasp. She whimpered with tears falling off her dark honey golden eyes. Her tears and her whimpers only fueled his animalistic sadistic side.

He whiffed at her neck, breathing her heady aura in, a culminating stimulus to the beast in him.

He brought his lips a breath away from hers, looked at her with all his loathing for her and then kissed her. It was brutal. It was painful. It was fearsome. There was nothing sweet about it. It was pure torture for her. He bit down on her bottom lip hard.

She was fighting to get him off her viciously, her small fists hitting his chest, trying to push him away but he was so strong. Too strong for her tiny frame. It wasn't a fair fight. Finally giving up she breathed in and then shrieked on top of her lungs.

He didn't know exactly what happened just then, but her pain filled shrieks tugged something in him and he literally felt her pain and helplessness pierce inside him. For some inexplicable reason he couldn't keep going. He couldn't breathe properly. He pushed himself off of her.

Looking at her in utter disbelief, he held his head in his hands, trying to soothe the pain. She was just standing there in her bra and black pants, crying like a baby. All those years that he kept all his emotions except his hatred for her hidden and locked away at a distant nook inside his head came crashing back. He staggered with the force of it. Looking at her, in that moment, he knew with complete conviction that she'd be the death of him if not literally then definitely figuratively. In either case, he was a dead man walking. He knew before coming here that she held some cards in this power play but he thought he did some too. He had planned on taking all the cards tonight but that pained look on his witch's face. All the emotions that were going through her were wreaking havoc inside him. He was bleeding inside because she was hurt. And he accepted that he was trumped. He had lost his hand. And deep down, he knew that that would be the case, forever.

He was hooked. His life as he knew it was over. So he did the only thing he could do in his disheveled state. He disapparated back to the Manor to re-strategize.

...

 **A/N:**

 **I am sorry if it was too dark guys. Maybe I was in a crazy state of mind when I wrote it. I just hope you all like it. Pleeeeeease Review guys. Any suggestions are most welcome. Maybe this chapter made some people think that Hermione was out of character, but she is not. You'll see in the next chapters. Also, I am done with the whole story so next chapter will be uploaded soon. Lastly, thank you for reading it.**


	3. Losing

**Infernal Dominion**

 **3\. Losing**

 ** _"_** ** _How could you hate and love the same person?_**

 ** _Introduce Hermione Granger to Draco Malfoy."_**

You know when you are a recovering alcoholic and it's taking all your resolve to not grab that bottle. So you hide the bottle, you never throw it away, just in case and you try to forget about it. It's painful, it's hard, it's a punishment but you persevere with your resolute commitment to your wellbeing. But then one day you just couldn't take it anymore and you rush to that bottle of whiskey, convincing yourself it'll just be a sniff, then when you get there, you sniff and your resolve weakens and you promise to yourself it'll only be one sip and you take that sip and it's so overpowering that your entire resolve crumbles and you devour the whole bottle without even pausing to take a breath.

Hermione Granger was his bottle of firewhiskey.

And that's exactly what Draco had done when he had rushed to her apartment without getting all the information and without questioning his own power. He had overestimated his control over his actions when it came to her. And now he was in a deathly bind, consequence of his own stupidity.

He wanted to dig his claws deep inside his chest and rip his own heart out. Being surrounded by a hailstorm of negative emotions was too much to take and he had made a mess of quite a magnitude. Coming back to his room last night, he had ripped his clothes apart with his bare hands. He was so angry, with himself, with the world. With Her. And he took all the anger out on his surroundings. It was five in the morning now, and his rage hadn't abated, not even a little bit. If anything it was growing fiercer by each ticking of the clock.

Being taught how to control his actions since before he could walk, one would expect from him to never lose sight but oh no. He only had to introduce Hermione Granger to the ill-informed and they'll understand. She had such a hold over him, he literally felt invisible hands suffocating him.

He hated her for being his mate, he never asked for it. He loathed her for making him lose composure, he was fine before her. He abhorred her for being so painfully opposite from him and the irony of it was making him see red. But most of all he hated her with an unparalleled intensity for her existence, because _she_ made him feel that preposterous sentiment called 'Love'. It's embarrassing.

The worst of it was that he might have attained his Veela inheritance now, but the plates had started shifting a long time ago. The day that he had seen her for the first time all those years back. She had been proving him wrong at every turn of his life. She was his very own contradiction.

Essential moments in his past were flashing through his mind. And she was in all of them. They were their memories, but now he really looked at them, putting his prejudice aside. And every individual scene passing through his mind led him to a single conclusion. Opportunity Lost.

He could've had her if he had tried but he hadn't because she would never fit in his world. She was not a pureblood, she was not a conniving, double-crossing bitch, and she did not know how to play the pureblood elite game. And he never had the guts to fight for her, especially when he himself had believed in a lot of that crap.

But after getting the Veela-excuse under his arm, he had rushed to her door without getting all the facts. Like how she wouldn't be as affected by the predicament as he was, how seeing his forbidden fruit after ages would make him lose his humanity and attack her in order to make her his, right away. How being a Veela literally gives your mate a complete control over your actions, over your life.

And as if there wasn't already a massive pile of problems, her scent was driving him mad. It was making him yearn for a taste of her. His hunger for her was increasing with each passing moment. He actually felt himself deteriorating. If he didn't claim her soon enough, he would die. And if he did against her will, he would die due to the hurt he would inflict on her. So the only solution he had was to make her willing which was too much work and damn near impossible.

He was no saint, never had been. But tonight he had definitely stepped over the line. He would never be a good person. That was a lost cause. But he needed to change his game.

Cursing loudly, he decided he needed to plan his way into her heart. Forcing himself into a full on scheming-mode, he got off his spacious bed, took a cold shower and meticulously planned every detail from here onwards. Getting out of the shower he dressed into his formal office robes.

With the flick of his finger he called Berty, his personal elf and ordered her to prepare the potion. The potion was the plan B. After the elf left, he quickly went to get the breakfast. And then he left the Manor to work on seducing the heart out of his girl. That was Plan A.

 **...**

He had been standing outside her ward in St. Mungo's, watching her work efficiently from the window. He knew that she was a goody two shoes but still the way she handled her patients. It was just too much love. It made him squirm. He felt ashamed but seeing her smiling with warmth at the patients made him yearn for some of that love too. He wanted that smile for himself. Only him.

He hated himself for hating and obsessing over her at the same time. It was as if he was two entirely different beings wrapped into one by a magnetic force stronger than his will.

Leaning against the wall he kept watching her. It would've been downright boring for him if it had been anyone else but watching her when she wasn't aware of his presence, when she didn't have her guard up was pleasing.

She was wearing a simple black turtle neck sweater with gray pants and had her healer robes on. Her hair were tied up in a bun with some loose tendrils framing her face. With the passing time, her hair were becoming bushier which made him smile. She had changed a lot but her bushy sun-gold mane was still the same.

She had a small curvy figure. She couldn't be more than 110 pounds. No wonder she couldn't even hit him effectively last night. She had no make-up on and somehow she was beautiful in her simplicity.

By the time that her shift in the ward was over, her hair were a big mass of curls framing her oval face. She left the ward with a folder in her hand. Biting her bottom lip, she was so engrossed in reading the patients file, that she didn't see him coming towards her. He stopped right in front of her and she bumped into him. Her head hitting his chest.

She stiffened as if she knew who he was before even looking up at him. All this while he just kept staring at her, breathing her sweet delicious scent in. It was like a balm to his burning weakened state.

He stepped aside and gave her a polite smile, which she didn't return and suspiciously narrowed her big honey brown eyes at him.

They kept staring at each other, daring the other to look away first. He being the master of the game, kept looking, calmly. So after five minutes into the staring contest, she blushed and looked away. He still kept staring.

She nervously looked around. "Why are you here, Malfoy? It's my workplace. I don't want a scene and your mere presence is causing a stir around us." she said shakily.

He didn't know what was wrong with him but even her voice felt so soothing. He imagined how it would feel if she whispered dirty things in his ear and smirked at the thought. Deciding to dwell on his perverse thoughts later, preferably late at night. He raised his arm and saw her flinch and cursed the stupidity of last night. He gave her a reassuring smile and touched her elbow very lightly, in a gesture for her to move along with him.

He saw her give him an untrusting look, but being too good for her own good, she reluctantly nodded and they started walking silently. He was glad that so far there hadn't been an incident but something was nagging at the back of his mind. Giving her a sideways look, he considered why this was going so smoothly. Something has changed in her too since last night. He didn't know what, but he intended to find out soon. He made her leave St. Mungo's and she came willingly. Something was definitely not right.

Sitting quietly in the small café opposite the hospital, they silently willed each other to start the conversation. Technically, Drcao knew, he should be the one to start as he had interrupted her but he wanted to watch her squirm. The sick bastard that he was. So he kept gazing into her big eyes. Registering the small details. How she tucked the loose tendrils behind her ears with her dainty hands after every minute or so. A clear sign of how uncomfortable she was. How she kept staring at everything except him. She just wouldn't look him in the eye. He wondered why.

The waitress finally came to their table and asked for their order. Without taking his eyes off her, he said, "Coffee. Black."

The waitress then turned to Hermione and waited for her to tell what she wanted.

"Nothing. I won't be here long."

He raised his eyebrows and thought, 'We'll see.'

When the waitress left, Hermione sighed. He kept his eyes on her. She sighed again and said, "Would you stop it."

"What?"

"Stop staring at me", she replied. Her voice barely a whisper.

He wanted to tell her, he would do whatever the fuck he wanted, but stopped himself, knowing that that wouldn't get him anywhere with the witch and he wanted to go all the way to the bed. Giving her a small smile, he voiced sensuously, "Okay." And then gave her a once over, that made her shift uncomfortably and then he looked away.

He didn't like it. He wanted to look at her. No, he needed to look because seeing her, smelling her, kept him comfortable. Knowing that his weakened state was getting better just by being around her, he wanted to keep looking.

Her scent was exactly what he had smelled when he had breathed in Amortentia fumes all those years ago. She smelled like coffee grains and wet mud after the rain and apples. Oh her scent was perfection. He wanted to taste her skin, her blood, not just because his survival depended on that but also to confirm if they were perfection too.

He saw her fidget nervously and finally drawled, "Granger, I am sure you spent the whole night researching so I don't think I need to convince you about my condition. I need you, for my life. I know you don't want this and if I had the choice, I wouldn't either but that's how it is."

Giving her a brooding serious look, he continued, "I am dying literally, so I could take you right now for my survival and nobody could stop me."

She jumped in her seat. He didn't like that, and he continued, "But I don't want to hurt you. I won't hurt you, so I have a proposal that should be acceptable to you."

She narrowed her eyes and breathed, "I know you are trapped for life. So what is this grand idea of yours?

Oh things were progressing really well. How sweetly naive she was. Hearing her words he thought she was goodness personified. He'll have to work on that. He can't have her be this good. Okay she could be all sorts of good to him but it will need to change for the rest of the world.

"I am willing to wait until you are more comfortable. But you'll have to move in with me."

She gave him a perfect poker face and then burst into a fitful of giggles. Loud girly giggles. He didn't know what was so funny about his idea but something was odd.

She kept laughing until tears were running from her eyes and then she looked him squarely in the eyes, which had none of the mirth that was fixed on her lips and said calmly, "You really are so full of yourself Malfoy. Do you really think I'll move in with you just because you said so, especially after last night? I don't think so. And I just came out here with you because I thought maybe, just maybe you felt sorry for your actions last night and came to apologize. Of course, I was wrong so now we are done. Go fuck yourself."

That little witch might have a lot of influence over him but she did not know that and he was not ready to give her the reign. "Watch it Granger. You know what will happen otherwise, I'll take you and no one can stop me. Like I said I don't want to do that so please, move in with me."

She shrugged and hissed, "You've got the wrong idea Malfoy. Last night I wasn't prepared, that will never happen again. So, you wanna force yourself on me, I'd love to see you try."

Forcefully pushing her chair away, she quickly got up, threw a few galleons on the table and left the café, twirling her wand in her left hand, all the way.

Things were so not going as he had planned. Dumbstruck and enraged, he got up a minute too late and ran after her. He caught up with her outside the hospital and decided to grab her arm to turn her around and talk some sense into her.

Before he even touched her, he was thrown away with such a forceful nonverbal spell that he hit the pole two meters away and fell to the ground. His back and chest hurting so much he could barely breathe.

Wand still in hand, face fuming, she walked up to him, grabbed his collar and hunched until they were face to face. "You conceited bastard. Go die, see if I care."

Breathing heavily, she continued in a fake scared voice, "Oh yeah, you could force yourself on me. Right. Try getting past the war-trained plus seven years, Golden Trio first. Don't threaten me Malfoy. And don't come near me again. I'll turn you into a snow white ferret and this time I'll make sure the change is permanent."

She threw him back on the ground and stormed back into the hospital.

And now he was scared. Not just because she could curse him into a ferret but also because he was losing her.

Why had he not just apologized? He wouldn't be in so much pain if he had. But he was never taught to apologize. Thanks to Lucius Malfoy, once again.

 **…**

 **A/N:**

 **Guys I really hope it wasn't disappointing. Please be gentle, if it was.**

 **Pleease review. They mean a lot.**

 **I'll upload the next chapter very soon.**


	4. Confrontations

**4\. Confrontations**

 **"** **Patience. Not a Malfoy trait."**

He was dying. It was a slow painful death. She was spreading inside him, like a disease, from his heart to the rest of his body. And there was just no cure to it. And to spice things up even more, he wouldn't cure himself, despite all the pain, the anger, the loathing. He still would not. Because he was a dying, in love, Veela.

It had been a week, since the incident in the café and he had tried everything from calming potions, to sleeping draughts, to patented daydream charms. They helped him a little, but worsened his condition in the longer run because they left him wanting more.

It was three in the afternoon and he still had three more agonizing hours to pass before he could have her in his sight again. After the past miserable week, he needed to confront her and try to prompt her to change her mind.

Sitting alone in a dark secluded corner of the Blaise Establishment, he was on his fifth fire-whiskey because surprisingly alcohol clouded his mind off of her, just a bit. She was now a mild nagging instead of the lately usual twenty-four hours aching need.

Passing his gaze across the club, he saw a couple of models, whose sole purpose there was to catch themselves a rich businessman or even better a Quiditch player because we all know how easy they are to ensnare, and they were eyeing him seductively. He roamed his eyes over their bodies. One blonde and the other a redhead, not quite as blazing as a Weasley red though. Long-legged and sexy as hell, too bad he wasn't in the mood and they weren't brunettes. He wondered why they don't realize that it never works. They are reeking of desperation. He had fucked those types but they were for his pleasure. He never went after them with any long-term planning. The only girl who hadn't been a one-night stand in the past seven years was 'The Witch Weekly's' chief editor, Clara Bradshaw. That too was just because, along with a perfect figure, she had a functioning brain. Oh and she was a brunette too, with a subtle resemblance to his bushy-haired mate.

Slight whispering followed with loud laughter brought him out of his reverie and to the present and he gave the bimbo's a menacing calculating glare, clearly indicating that he knew what they were at, which made them shift their gazes and skirt off to find someone else. Probably dumber. He downed the last glass of alcohol and stood up to leave, deciding to sneak up on his girl a few hours early.

…

She entered the café after finishing her shift, looking tired, slightly disheveled but beautiful nonetheless. It was probably his eyes because how else could a person be beauty personified at all times. It wasn't that she was flawless. It's just that she had pretty flaws. She sat down at the table near the window facing towards the hospital and waved the waitress away. She was waiting for someone. Who? He was intrigued.

Five minutes passed and she checked her watch for the fifth time, when someone sat opposite Hermione, his back at him. He didn't get a good look at the guys face but he was pissed. She was on a date. How the fuck did she dare to torture him like that? Rejecting him was one thing but going out with another guy was bitter vengeance on her part. It felt like a stake through his battered, bleeding, blackened heart

He wished to curse the fucker to oblivion and tie Hermione to himself so that she could never leave his side and have affairs but such tactics have backfired on him whenever she was concerned so he had to try something new. Patience, not his strongest suit, but necessary in this moment. He'll exact revenge for this from her later on but right now, he had to put it aside.

The date went on and his features, despite his best efforts, turned menacing. It took all of his self-control and then some to not rush to her side. Half an hour of agony and the fucker finally got up to leave. Then he hugged her and kissed her. Right in front of him. Given it was a peck on the cheek but still, now he had to know who the guy was. So Draco waited and the guy turned around. It was Seamus Bloody Finnigan. Fucking Gryffindor's, destroying his life one way or another.

He had been reciting the mantra, 'Do not hex the guy', but when he hugged and kissed Hermione goodbye. Well, that changed things. He promised himself that he'll hunt Finnigan down and ensure no such thing ever happens again.

Finnigan left, Draco composed his features, although the storm was still brewing underneath, and approached Hermione. She was about to leave when he sat down on the recently unoccupied chair across her. She looked at him and anger flared in her eyes. At least his presence sparks something in her, he mused.

"Why are you here Malfoy? I thought I made myself clear the last time you were here."

Seeing her up close, taking in her delicious scent, already made him feel better. He felt stronger. And although he fancied a fight over her recent rendezvous, he couldn't. Not yet. So he resorted to pitiful convincing.

Brushing his hands through his hair, he leaned forward and said calmly, "Granger, I wouldn't be here if I had any other option. I am dying. I need you for my survival."

She started to protest but he raised his hands and stopped her. "Look, if you can't let me complete the mating process then you have to let me smell you, touch you. Let me be near you. That helps some. And what has gotten into you. Aren't you supposed to be affected by my plight? I thought Gryffindor's are like that, especially you." he said heatedly.

Blushing furiously, which was a delight for him, she kept looking into his stormy eyes, it seemed like she was looking for something inside them. After a couple of minutes, of internal debate, she shook her head and said softly, "I am not a vengeful person Malfoy but taking hell from you for six years at Hogwarts was too much. I had to get even."

This woman was being such a pain. Let things get better between us and then I'll get even with you too, he thought bitterly.

"But okay. I know how serious your situation is. I've read three books on Veela's since our previous encounter and I even talked to Fleur which has changed my perspective. So, I am ready to give it a try."

With a sad sigh, she whispered, "I am ready to move into the Manor."

It was just too easy. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"But remember one thing. I will not mate with you for you. I need to feel something too."

He gave her a wicked look. "Oh I'll make you feel all sorts of things, love." He was too relieved to stop himself from saying that.

"Ugh no. Not like that."

He gave her a smirk and snorted, "We'll see."

She sighed and said, "You are making it really hard for me to go through with this plan."

Getting serious and curious, he tilted his head a little and looked into her soft mesmerizing eyes, "Seriously, why are you?"

"That's none of your business." she had said that a little too quickly, and he caught that.

"Oh but it is, love."

"No it's not. And don't call me that." she cried. Anger clearly visible in her tone. She was about to burst, he knew. But he persisted, "Tell me. Now."

They had another glaring contest. His gaze getting more and more menacing as time passed. She flinched and pleaded, "Just leave it Malfoy, you don't wanna know, trust me."

"I don't. So tell me."

Squaring her shoulders, she looked at his forehead, "I don't have a choice. The law is in your favor. You can rape me and no one will do anything. I know I said I can handle myself but I know if I don't agree with you, this situation could get really ugly for the both of us. You are strong enough right now to go with this arrangement. But if I don't, you'll worsen with time and I fear that in a moment of weakness you'll force yourself on me and I don't want that."

She was smart to have come up with a part-truth, he'll give her that. But he was smart and cunning so he knew she wasn't being entirely honest. Also, wand-mastery was her thing. But she was not conniving enough to know how innocent information could be twisted and manipulated for personal gain. And her previous confession was just that. She was scared because despite having the wonder-boys on her side, the rest of the Ministry would take his side if it becomes an open battle. She is willing to give it a try under smoother waters before it's forced upon her.

Narrowing his eyes, he spitted, "Stop it. Stop hiding behind part-truths. What are your other reasons?"

"I am not hiding anything. That's just it." she meekly retorted.

"Please. Your face is as red as a tomato. I am giving you one last chance and then I'll be in your head."

Her eyes widened with fear. His narrowed into slits. He realized it was really bad and thought of using Legilimency just to be sure that he had the pure version. Besides he could only do sweet cajoling for too long. She was really strong, maybe a better spell caster than him but she was nothing compared to him in Legilimency. She might have learned Occlumency during the war but she was no expert.

She begged with her eyes, he shook his head and took his wand out and put it on the table. She finally conceded, "I still have nightmares about that night at the Manor. I thought if I go with your plan and stay at the Manor, I'll be free of the haunting memories. Face my fears head-on and all that."

He knew she was telling the truth. He felt her pain, partly due to the weird veela-connection and partly because he also lived through his nightmares.

He nodded and stood up. She gawked at him, surprisingly surprised by his indifference. She thought he would feel bad for her. He was her veela after all. Oh please, he did but the level of anger he had for her was way higher than that. Composing her features, she quickly stood up to leave. Giving him a curt nod, she started turning when he whispered, "Three things. I will call you whatever the heck I want, love. I will collect you from your apartment tonight at nine, that's non-negotiable. And I know you told the truth but still left something out. I could get it out of you. But consider it my Veela-love that I won't. You'll tell in due time anyway."

Leaning into her, he dipped his head and kissed her neck where her pulse was. Then he brushed his tongue on the heated skin and deeply inhaled her scent. He stood back up, his blazing eyes a dark charcoal, with too much lust in them that she couldn't hold the gaze and quickly looked away.

He gracefully walked past her and left the café, leaving her shock-still.

…..

He went back to the Blaise Establishment. He had some unfinished business to take care of before he would go to Hermione's apartment. Casually walking through the place, he searched for a familiar face. Fifteen minutes into the search and he spotted the person he was looking for. Clad in black, the guy was flirting with a petite girl.

Storming up to the guy, Malfoy grabbed his collar with one hand and brought him close to his fiercely enraged face.

"What the fuck, Malfoy?" he cried with obvious irritation.

Fuming furiously, his wild eyes boring into his, he punched him right in the gut. Because the satisfaction a physical blow brings is so much sweeter than a hex. And then he snarled, "Stay away from Hermione Granger. Because I won't be so soft the next time."

The whole club was silent. Even the music had stopped playing. Glaring, Malfoy turned to leave but then stopped and said in a deceptively soft voice, "I am warning you Finnigan, if I see you anywhere near her again, I'll get you fired and then I'll shred you into pieces. She is mine."

And he stormed away.

…

 **A/N**

 **I am so sorry guys for the late update, I had been super busy.**

 **I hope you all like this chapter.**

 **Pleeeeease review. And be kind :P**

 **And I'll upload the next chapter really soon.**


	5. Connection

**5\. Connection**

 **"What is the point of having all the money in the world, when it can't buy what you really truly actually want?"**

He had learnt a long time ago that your face is not a mirror of your soul, it's only a façade, a mask. The better you wear it, the more power it gives you over people, and vice versa. So, the slight tapping of fingers on his knee, was the only sign of shift in his otherwise indifferent persona. When deep inside he was brimming with excitement because tonight she'll sleep in his bed, literally just sleep but still it was a big step towards his win.

Noting it was time to pick her up from her apartment, he apparated right in the middle of her sitting area, he was welcomed by a disheveled and red-eyed Granger in the arms of none other than Harry Potter, with Ron Bloody Weasel standing right next to the hugging duo. He could see nothing but red, their audacity to dare touch what was his. He wanted to tear them to pieces and serve them raw to the wild hounds. But if he lost his temper now, all the work and act that he had put into getting her would be lost. And he'd have to start all over again, which in his weakened state was hopeless.

Ignoring Potter and Weasley, his gaze remained fix on his witch. She was throwing daggers. Without breaking the contact, he stepped right in front of her, barely a foot away, inhaled her in, grabbed her arm and swiftly brought her to his side. His arm securely around her lower back. She stiffened but didn't pull away. He knew that boy-wonder and his sidekick were ready to pounce but who gives a fuck about them. Certainly not him.

The redhead started angrily, "You filthy piece of shi..."

Potter, ever the savior, stopped his stupid friend by pinching his best-friends arm. Shaking his head in frustration, "Malfoy, you just couldn't help yourself could you? Had to make our lives miserable one way or the other." spitted the scar-head, his wand at ready in his hand.

Sniffing Hermione's hair, to calm himself and piss the shit out of her friends, he mouthed softly, but somehow that made the message so much more convincing than if he had shouted, "She is mine now. Not yours. Or yours Weasel. I could have a power-demonstration session right here, right now."

"Oh please, stop with the empty threats Malfoy. No one's buying them. You have no power over me."

"Yet!" he remarked.

"If anything, I am the one in power, which is pretty obvious, seeing your disoriented and weakened state." Turning to her dumb friends she continued, in a much softer tone, "Harry, Ron I know you guys are worried about me, but I have put a lot of thought into this and I think I have to give it a try. I mean really, I can't let him die, even if he is a pain in the ass ferret. At least, not without giving this one shot."

"No Mione."

"No way Herms."

Malfoy wanted to bash their skulls in for using those nicknames. He would have to have a talk with her regarding a lot of things including that. No one is allowed to call her by those names except him. She was his property, his most valuable possession, his obsession of more than half his life, and now his mate for life, he cannot permit the likes of Potter and Weasley to use such loving nicknames.

Before the boys could protest anymore, she pinned him with her shiny gold eyes, silently conveying to stay calm, left his side and went to the boys. Gave both of them a hug and peck on the cheek and then said softly, "Please. Trust me. I'll meet you guys tomorrow. Now go."

Cursing furiously, Weasley gave him his best glare and apparated away. Potter on the other hand stayed and looked him right in the eye, "If Mione gets hurt in any way, whatsoever. I'll come for your soul, Malfoy. And even the fear of Azkaban will not hold me back." And then he too vanished.

Left alone in the room, they both were breathing heavily. Him looking squarely at her, and she was looking down at her entwined hands. He was feeling all sorts of things. Anger, jealousy but weirdly enough hurt, pain and a tinge of fear too. He narrowed his eyes questioning why that was. Realizing two seconds too late, he sweared loudly, brought his hands to his silver hair and pulled at them furiously.

As if things weren't hell bad already, he could now feel Granger's emotions too. Feeling the pain, the first time he had been in here, had made him think that he would only always know her hurt, because obviously the survival of his mate was crucial for his survival but picking up all of her passing motor responses was a much more nebulous curse. Someone sitting up there was definitely out for him. Keeping his eyes on her, he wondered what was happening and when will the ever-increasing bond reach its limit and stop.

He had liked her since the first time they met at the entrance of the great hall at Hogwarts. He suppressed it seeing that they were from entirely different worlds. It went on fine for the next four years and then Yule ball happened and he felt his heart tug at the sight of her in that comely periwinkle blue dress. All through that night he had sat in a shadowed corner and ogled her. She had been breathtaking, that night. He distinctly remember that he had spent the night looking for a flaw in her and he came up with nothing. His burning eyes were glued on her, like a hawk all through fourth year and by the end of it, he had reluctantly submitted to the truth that he was infatuated with a frizzy-haired Gryffindor mudblood. The darkening times and his forever present hatred for the cruelty that he was obsessed with a mudblood, made him distance himself from his passion for her and blame her for everything. The war ended, and he kept going with his life, never letting that part of him rise again, until that side rose like a Veela inside him.

Bringing himself back to the current scenario he helplessly regarded that what she was feeling was one thing but wanting to stop her pain and fear and cause her happiness was a whole new level of clingy in his eyes. He was just not made that way. What he felt for her was in direct contradiction with what he had been taught his entire life. The witch was breaking his lifetime of cold-resolve and hatred to pieces and she was completely unaware.

This was too much bias from the God who created all creatures. What was the point of being a veela and so deeply connected to another being when his mate wouldn't have to go through what he had been forced to bear. Why wasn't she feeling his anger and jealousy? Why wasn't she desperate to please him? Why was she not itching to touch him like he was?

Registering the rising color in her cheeks, over his silent scrutiny, his eyes narrowed into slits and he started "Do you have any idea what I am going through? How conflicted I am?

Looking up at him, she shook her head, her wavy tresses softly tumbling around her naked face and plainly said "No. I am not conflicted."

And then she turned and went to her bedroom. Leaving him standing there. He registered that she had put barrier around her thoughts and feelings. Another new revelation, she could hide them if she wanted. Wondering how she knew and why she wanted to, he tried to push past the invisible wall but it was too damn thick and tall that he finally gave up and decided to lounge there and wait for her to come out of the room.

The witch was too clever and creative, where he was concerned that she came out at exactly, eight-forty-five, right before he was to storm into her bedroom and take her to the Manor by force via side along apparition.

Checking that the wall was still up, he was equally delighted and disappointed. Deciding to work on that later, as it had already been too much waiting on his part, he grabbed her and apparated outside his Manor.

She was not a Malfoy so she had to enter inside clutching his hand. Sensing her fear, he gave her a soft squeeze in reassurance and together they entered the Manor. Passing the grounds he watched her with an undiminishing intensity, and saw her watch the Manor and its extensive grounds surrounding them with wonder. Noting and recording like a true bookworm, it was as if she was too engrossed to dwell on the fact that he still had her hand in his. And he most certainly wasn't going to reveal that to her. So they walked in silence.

"My parents are vacationing in France so you don't have to worry about meeting them yet."

Staggering back to reality, she slowly took her hand out of his grip and kept quiet. He acutely felt the warmth leaving his hand.

Walking silently through the spacious Manor, they finally entered his room, which had been repaired back to its original state. He closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. Scrutinizing her to sense what was going through her pretty head, as she was diligently keeping up the unseen wall between their mental connection. She watched his room speculatively and blushed when her gaze fell on his bed.

Grinning inside, he calmly brushed past her and when their shoulders touched, she jumped. He casually took his robes off and went towards the bathroom. Before entering, he turned sideways and voiced, "I am going to take a shower. Why don't you use that time to unpack. When I come out, we are going to have a talk." And then went into the bathroom.

He took a long hot shower, bathing in the success of today. He finally has her close to him. He'll have to work hard on the girl though. She was too careful around him, not trusting him a bit. But believing she was too forgiving, too wonderful that she'll eventually accept him, maybe even fall for him. Her loving him, only the thought made him hard. He wished he had the same power over her. Things would have been so sinfully decadent if she were in love with him. If only.

Coming out of the bathroom, he saw her changed into the most unflattering and veiling, red and gold Pjs, how very Gryffindor of her, lying on the bed pretending to be asleep. Smirking, he got in on the other side and snuggled tightly around her. She stiffened at the touch but relaxed instantly to keep up the facade of sleeping, probably to delay the depressing talk. Catching up what she was doing, he used it to his advantage and brought his lips to the spot behind her ear and kissed her. Taking her scent in, her sweet mouthwatering scent, he bit on her ear, which resulted in her sharp intake of breath. He was so delighted at being able to touch her, smell her, and dwell in her softness that he decided not to push his luck too far. Giving her a soft kiss on the forehead he loosened his grip around her, still holding her close though, and buried his head in her soft luscious hair and fell into a deep steamy dreamy sleep.

….

 **A/N**

 **Hey guys, I hope y'all liked this chapter.**

 **Pleeeease review. They mean the world to me. Seriously, every review puts a smile on my face.**

 **I'll upload the next chapter real soon.**


	6. Decision

**6\. Decision**

 **"Love: What a fucked up emotion."**

His bed was unusually warm, the satin sheets felt softer, silkier. Waking up from the deep slumber, the sinfully sweet scent invaded his senses and blinking his eyes open, they fell upon the supple body of his mate. Her arms and legs were lazily wrapped around his body. She had her arm slung across his chest and her legs on top of his. And her pretty little head was buried in the junction of his neck and shoulder. Wondering how the positions had switched during the night, he smiled lazily and soaked himself in her scent by taking in long deep breaths.

Utilizing the opportunity, he scrutinized her face, cataloguing the soft light freckles on her nose, the slight pout of her lips, giving them a luscious wholesome look, her high cheekbones, the natural dark gold streaks in her otherwise chocolate brown hair. She was angelic. She was majestic. Marveling in her perfection, he bewildered if his need would've been this intense if she hadn't been this radiant.

He had never desired anything with this extreme conviction than he did her. He wanted to kiss every inch of her decadent body, claim her as his own. Make her moan, yearn and scream for him. He wanted to make her beg for his touch. He just, plain out downright, wanted to possess her.

Hearing her yawn, brought him out of his reverie and he looked down into her opening eyes. He was the first thing that her gaze fell upon and he wished to make this a permanent occurrence. Seeing the rising intensity in his stormy eyes, she blushed instantly. Shifting her gaze, next noticing her position around him, she turned beet red and skirted herself away from him and tried to get out of the bed. Before she could get away, he grabbed her hand and gave her a light shove. Falling back on his chest, she glared at him and pushed him away. He secured her on top of his body by wrapping both his arms around her small figure, his hands clasping on her back, dangerously close to her bum. This position forced her to look at his face. Still glaring daggers at him, she hissed, "What is your problem? I spent the whole bloody night in your bed, isn't that enough for you, at least for a few hours, you greedy bastard."

"No. And we need to talk. Last night you were sleeping when I got out of the shower so we have to have that talk now."

"Can't it just wait? I need to go to work."

Narrowing his eyes, he whispered, "You have time, stop running from the matter."

She gave him a hateful stare but kept quiet so he drawled on, "You need to understand a few things. No matter how complacent you are, it's not enough. For me it would never be enough."

Fearing he would give too much away and making her aware that he was at her mercy, he lied, "This physical attraction won't abate unless we mate. So in case you've changed your mind and ready to willingly give yourself to me, you'll do as I say."

She was fuming now, throwing her anger and hatred at him making him stagger with the intensity of those emotions. But he collected himself and continued, "I want you to take a break from the job until we bond and spend all that time with me."

"No effing way." she snarled.

Bracing himself to feel the pain, he gripped her tighter, suffocating her and spitted back, "Don't test me Granger. I swear on Merlin I'll take you right now if you don't concede to my wishes."

"You cannot threaten to rape me every time I don't agree to your preposterous demands Malfoy."

"I am not threatening you, darling. Those are the facts. And it won't be rape because you'll enjoy every second of it. I'll make sure of that."

She was so scared that her fear seeped out of her carefully built up wall, making him question if he went too far with his words so he lightly added, "But it won't come to that because you'll be a good girl and do exactly as I say."

She didn't answer immediately, her over sharp mind weighing all the possible approaches. Over thinking for a couple of minutes, she finally slumped her torso on top of him and whimpered, "I hate you Draco Malfoy."

He couldn't quite answer why but that made him laugh. Feeling his chest heaving with laughter she pushed herself off of him and ran into the bathroom. He kept grinning like an idiot for winning the small feat.

Her shower went on for far too long, which got him worried and out of bed. Entering the bathroom after a knock he saw the water running but no one in there. Oh that minx, she apparated away, right under his nose. And here he was thinking he had convinced her to spend the next few weeks with him. Punching the wall, he called Berty and ordered her to find Hermione.

 **...**

He was fuming in his office when the elf returned, bowing deep she stuttered, "Master miss Hermy Nee is at the residence of Bill Weasley. Do you want the address?"

"No Berty, just take me there."

Apparating outside the awful cottage he didn't bother to knock and entered the house. His mate was at a Weasley house and not for Ron fucking Weasley or the mama bear. She ran away from him this morning and rushed to Bill bloody Weasley. How many guys does she have in her life? Finnigan and now Bill. This infidelity on her part is beyond forgiveness. He was thinking about getting sweet with her, change her mind, and make her fall in love with him. He had the whole day planned for just the two of them, to make her see a positive side of him. To soften her resolve. And here she was fraternizing with the enemy. Well if that's how she is, jumping from one guy to another, she'll have to see the much harsher Draco Malfoy, because no one messes with him, especially where his bloody heart is involved and get away with it.

Entering the living room, he saw no one there so he decided to shout her name when he heard voices from a bedroom. So, they had taken the party to the bedroom, he registered and then he saw red. His claws came out and he stormed towards the closed bedroom door. But before he could rip the door open, he heard a woman's voice. Not Hermione's but another woman's.

"Hermione love, I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, but if you are his mate, there is no way out of it. He will never leave you. Ever."

Okay. So what, if he made up a whole different situation in his mind. He didn't know this Bill Weasley's house consisted of a Veela wife and Hermione was here to discuss their situation with her. But any guy would've jumped to the same conclusion, like him, if they had forgotten about Weasley's wife, right? That massive hoard of a family, how could one keep track of so many Weasleys?

He leaned against the wall next to the closed door and listened. Okay eavesdropped but he's a Slytherin so what else did you expect?

"But what if I run away? Hide."

"That won't work. He'll chase you to the end of the World." Damn right he will, he thought.

"Not to mention, he'll die Hermione if you leave him. Do you really want that?"

"No, of course not. I don't want him to die but I don't want a forced relationship. We are so fundamentally different, we will never find a common ground. I am stuck in such a huge mess. Life couldn't get any worse for me. My friends hate him. I don't exactly like him and then he had the audacity to order me to take a break from my job. Huh, as if that's ever gonna happen. Seriously, Fleur do you have any idea, how hard it is for me?"

There was a small pause in their conversation and he thought maybe they knew he was outside but then Fleur started, "Umm Hermione, I am sorry I am saying this but do you have any idea, even the slightest inclination of what Malfoy is going through, right now?"

"Oh I know he needs to mate with me, to sate this Veela need for his mate."

The Veela laughed softly, "Hermione it's not just a need. It's so much more than that. It's a hunger so deep and in carnal. He is literally dying because he is craving for you and he hasn't has his fill for so long now."

"What?" Hermione screeched.

"Listen Hermione, he is in pain. A lot of pain. What you are going through is nothing compared to what he is feeling right now. He cannot think straight unless he knows for sure that you are his alone. Look, it was relatively easy for me because Bill and I, we didn't have a bad past to get over, we just clicked. He was my mate and he was attracted to me right from the start. For Malfoy, his pain and jealousy and possessiveness runs so much deeper because of your past. To him it seems that you'll never accept him so mating with you will change that for him. "

"You know why there are laws in his favor? Because if you guys don't bond, you have a way out. But for him, there is no way out, at all. And quite honestly, I am surprised he is being this considerate."

"Considerate? Are you kidding me?" Hermione spitted.

"One forced kiss Hermione, really? Usually Veela's stop much later, if at all, when confronted by an unwilling mate. My advice to you is to cut him some slack. And as far as your differences go, you don't end up being someone's Mate, without some preordained feelings on the Veela's part. Trust me, give him a chance. He might surprise you."

"This sucks."

"I know. I hope the next time we meet, it's under a happier note. No one likes a grumpy Hermione."

"Hey."

The last thing that he heard before apparition was, in a very soft whisper, "So, he really is in a lot of pain?"

"Yes, more than he is letting on."

 **…**

He was lounging silently in a couch, in his office. Quietly lighting his wand on and off nonverbally. He was too dejected to run after Hermione when she obviously wants to hide far away from him. He couldn't resist for long so he'll eventually chase her down but not tonight. The chase will have to wait, at least till the morning. Tonight he just wishes to drown his sorrows in alcohol.

It was past midnight when he decided to leave his office and get back home. He knew it had been only one night that she had stayed in his bed, but deep down he was dreading sleeping tonight. His nightmares have been at bay for some time now, but tonight he just knew that alone in his bed, he'll have a terrifying visit down the memory lane.

His room was dark, like his soul but her lingering scent was still there. Making him burn for her all over again. Booze could only help him so much. Cursing silently he took his shirt off and threw it on the mahogany rocking chair next to the huge window and walked towards his bed.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw 'her' in the bed. She came back. She willingly came back to him. She is giving him an unbiased chance. A real chance to win her over. His mind was going through a whirlwind of elated emotions and all he wanted was to wake her up and bury himself inside her. But he wouldn't because this time he cannot destroy his chances with her. He'll have to put his desires on the back and put hers first. It'll be hard but if it means getting her once and for all, he'll suck it up and do just that. Besides seeing her there was way more than what he had a moment ago.

So, he silently got into bed next to her and kissed her on the forehead.

Sleep came to him, much later, in the early hours of the morning. He had been busy deciding a few things. Opening up to another human being was, quite honestly, the most undesirable thing in his mind, but he has to make her see him in a new light. See a whole new side of him. From this day forward, things will be different between them. And by God he'll make her fall for him. Hard.

 **…**

 **A/N**

 **Hey guys. This was a pretty quick update right?**

 **I am sorry for the mistakes. I am sure I made many.**

 **Please review. They make me so happy.**

 **I'll update soon.**


	7. Trying

**Infernal Dominion**

 **7\. Trying**

 **"** **Trying to win her over is so bloody tiring." – Confessions of a Veela**

He was waiting for her in the same cafe outside Mungo's, planning the day that they had ahead of themselves. He knew she wasn't into shopping, although that would've been easier, he knew all the best places due to a lifetime of experience with his mother. Quiditch was the next in line, that would've been absolutely smashing, had it not been for the fact that Granger was scared of heights and flying. Next was clubbing which he loved but he was pretty confident that that wouldn't impress her, not even the slightest. Suddenly an idea flashed that would totally blow her mind off, knowing how big of a bookworm she was. Confident in his decision he relaxed and tapped his fingers on the table, in a rhythm-less flow.

About an hour into his waiting, he looked up at the door for the hundredth time and saw her entering the coffee shop, in her usual casual perfection. However on closer inspection, he realized she was upset. He knew why she was in a sour mood. After all she was skipping her shift to spend some quality time with yours truly. He was beginning to feel sorry for her because work and proper work ethics were so very important to her. But then he stopped himself because right then he realized something that was equal parts elating and depressing. She didn't know how to let loose and have fun. She couldn't even be a little excited about skipping one shift of work. It was one thing that she didn't know how to do and he was an expert. He'll be the one to teach her that. His happiness was beginning to seep through his features and Hermione came to a sudden halt at seeing a genuine smile on his face.

"You look happy." She mused childishly.

Keeping that smile plastered on his face he gave her a nod and whispered huskily, "I am."

She noisily dragged the chair opposite him and threw herself on it. She was so angry at him that she didn't look him in the eye, but he could sense her irritation, she was probably projecting it directly at him via their telekinetic connection. He wondered why she always felt only those emotions. Knowing there was something suspicious in that, but he had other matters to dwell on at the moment, he pushed that thought aside.

"You better have something good planned."

He got off his chair and held his hand out for her to take. Giving his hand a contemptuous look, she stood up.

"I don't bite, you know."

Giving his hand a reluctant look, she took it. And Malfoy felt relieved for the to-be-argument averted. A quick heads up and he apparated them back to the Manor.

"You've got to be kidding me. I didn't cancel my shift, just to cuddle in bed with you." she pulled her hand out of his grasp, squared her shoulders and threw a venomous glare at him.

"You just have to make everything harder for me."

She flinched at his words but being beyond angered herself, she yelled back, "I'll make your 'cuddling in bed all day' hell for you. I promise."

She was so headstrong, and he was confused whether he loved that about her or hated it. Her presence was so Goddamn draining.

He dragged her through the Manor and didn't stop until they stepped in front of a beautifully carved mahogany double doors. Giving her a dark sideways look, he cursed under his breath. He had an entirely different scenario in his head than the fuming blazing hatred reeking from her. Nonetheless he shoved the doors open and nudged her inside.

Registering where he had taken her, she came to a sudden halt and looked around in awe. They were inside the Malfoy Manor library, which was as extensive as the Hogwarts library by the looks of it. He kept staring at her and realized she was in shock. She was so mesmerized by her surroundings that she totally forgot about him and took a long deep breath, inhaling the smell of books and smiled contentedly, her anger totally evaporated. She gave him an enormous smile and ran towards the gigantic bookshelves with arms in the air. Before he could stop himself, he burst out laughing because only Hermione Granger could do an arms-in-the-air dance move at the sight of a library.

Seeing her so happy, he couldn't help himself and smiled broadly. She was overjoyed by his surpsrise and that made him forget all about the previous tirade. He was jubilant at seeing this 'crazy happy over books' nerdy side of her and wondered how pathetic that made him sound. Shaking his head in exasperation, blaming his veela blood as an excuse, he slowly walked in the library, passing bookshelves in search of his mate.

She was in the far right corner, with a stack of books in her hands. Seeing him staring at her, she blushed and gave him a meek apologetic smile. Then she walked past him and placed the books on a huge shiny wooden table. Turning around she looked in his striking gray eyes and walked back towards him. Stopping only a foot away from him, his pulse quickened at her odd but delightful behavior. She rose upon her toes and gave him a small innocent peck on the cheek.

He was shocked. He was overwhelmed. He was thrilled. But he was so not satisfied so he brought his arms around her at a lightning speed and captured her lips in a demanding kiss. She was unresponsive but he kept kissing her, taking his fill. Capturing her bottom lip between his teeth, he bit her lightly, resulting in her sharp intake of breath. Seeking the opportunity, he entered his tongue in her soft sweet enticing mouth. His passionate kisses softened her and she shakily brought her arms around him and started kissing him back. His need sky-rocketed.

He was in heaven. His tasty delectable temptress felt perfect in his arms, in his mouth. He ravished her until they were both breathless and then looked into her eyes. Her chest heaving, her pupils dilated, he was ready to pounce on her again but recording his heated eyes, she recovered quickly and stopped him by bringing her hands up.

Trying to compose herself, she took a deep breath and then concluded shakily, "Thank you for the wonderful surprise. I hope it's not a onetime thing?"

Shocked at the sudden one-eighty degree change, as if their shared moment of passion never happened, he just whispered dumbly, "No, you have complete access from now onwards."

Little minx nodded, gave him a small smile and informed, "Well I am off to read. Thank you again Malfoy. I appreciate it." And left him standing. Petrified.

Shaking himself back to the reality, wondering how the heck he got so whipped. Oh yeah he was a bloody fucking veela. Some luck that he had. Trying to assess her state of mind, he realized that the wall was still up, and he couldn't grasp a single emotion out of her. Why does she always keep it up? Well at least he still had her in his sight. Walking sulkily back to the table where his weird as hell mate was lounging in a pool of books and slumped himself across her.

Apparently, over the heated moment that they had shared only a few minutes ago, she was rejoicing in her one true love, books. So he decided to do the same, made himself comfortable on the chair and fixed his gaze on her. Staring at her was like watching the Quiditch world cup final, only a hundred times better. He had been blaming his veela-nature for all these strong primitive emotions but the deep dark truth was he had these feeling all along and that's the reason why he hadn't ever had a romantic relationship with anyone. She is the one. She had always been the one and only. Subconsciously he had been waiting for her his entire life.

Coming back to the present, he focused his sharp gaze at the pretty nerd. She looked like a virgin princess out of a romance book. His sweet geek. Smiling, he roamed his eyes all over her and took a deep breath, inhaling her precious scent in. She was such a high. He could drown in its depths for eternity.

He could actually catalogue the change in colours, from pale gold to light rose gold to nude pink to dark rosy blush to tomato red and he laughed inside. His sweetheart was blushing profusely under his heated gaze. He wanted to see how far it'll go, silently wishing to see the same tone all over her sexy body. He pretended not to notice her squirming under his intense orbs and kept at his studious scrutiny.

Out of patience she finally cleared her throat and sighed, "Would you please look somewhere else?"

"Now, why would I do that?"

"Because it's uncomfortable for me. Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Like what, love?"

She crunched at that but responded, "Like maybe read something."

"Would it be more fun than reading you?" he quipped sharply.

"I am not even gonna acknowledge that you said that."

"Then I'll keep studying you. It's so much more fun than 'The causes and cures of wizards memory malfunction syndrome'. Seriously Granger, your bookishness knows no bounds. It's embarrassing."

He didn't mean it as an insult but he knew she was hurt because she flinched and straightened her back. Her features turning glacial and she drawled, feigning indifference, "Fine. Suit yourself."

And then a sharp blazing pain hit him, causing a throbbing headache. The bloody witch was hitting him with all her negative emotions, head on. Holding his head in his hands, defeated, he snarled, "That was mean."

"Oh please don't even start with me on that. You are the creator of 'mean'."

"Stop it, Granger. I was only looking because I have no other choice. It's soothing. If I can't have you, the least you could do is bear my staring." he has just ensured his first-class ticket to hell for all the lies that he has been breathing lately. Her presence was soothing enough without all the ogling.

"Fuck you Draco Malfoy for ruining both our lives."

This time the pain that he felt was all his, none being projected towards him. She hates him. She hates him. She fucking hates him. And nothing that he does will ever change that. Why is she such an insufferable witch. He loves her with all his being, veela and otherwise, and she couldn't even like him.

Turning into his detached, dispassionate self, he rose from the chair and spoke formally, "I am sorry for the pain Granger. I am leaving. You can stay here for however long you wish. I'll see you at night."

Leaving the library, the only bright spot in his dark dooming mood was the look on her face. Confusion and regret.

He went straight to his home office where he had stacks upon stacks of books upon veela's. Ignoring them all he went straight to his desk and took out the book he came looking for from the desk drawer. It was not a book but an old, slightly torn, leather bound journal that belonged to the last Black veela, Nigelius Black.

Holding the book in his hand, he left the Manor and apparated to the 'Blaise Establishment'. Heading to his usual secluded spot, he sat down and ordered a bottle of the finest scotch and began reading. There were too many blank spots, making the chase all too unfair.

 **…..**

 **A/N**

 **Guys I am sorry for making yet another chapter not very progressive.**

 **I promise that next chapter will be the one full of new turns.**

 **I hope you all liked this chapter despite all the mistakes and slow pace.**

 **I'll upload the new chapter real soon.**

 **Please Review. Pretty please.**


	8. Lists

**Infernal Dominion**

 **8\. Lists**

 **"She was trouble.**

 **So much trouble.**

 **The irresistible kind of trouble."**

Having read that book, he wanted to incinerate somebody, really bad. He had his head in his hands and was cursing his heritage. They never disappoint, his ancestors. Crazy fucks. They know where to punch and do just that. Before reading it, he had been praying that everything happening would be explained as Veela traits. He wanted to blame all things 'him and Granger' on his Veela nature but it just wasn't like that.

The hailstorm of emotions that he was surrounded in was not Veela-enforced. Oh, it was much more complicated than that. Wanting to make her happy, was being Veela. But putting her happiness before his was all him. He should feel her pain but no Veela feels it as acutely as he had. The only inkling of good news was that mate's are affected by their Veela's too. Quite deeply but still nowhere near what Veela's feel for them. Now, he just needed to cash that and make her his very own, in every sense of the word.

But as if he wasn't in the deep end already, she was hiding shit from him. There was no way she was feeling only loathing and rage. She must be feeling some semblance of lust, she had kissed him back after all. Why was she hiding her emotions, her thoughts? Hermione Granger was a smart witch, there had never been a doubt about that. But the little chit had been playing him all along. According to the journal, Veela's can sense all sorts of emotions of their mate. Not just their hate and anger and pain, but also their desires, their happiness, their lust, their need.

Oh how his mate has played him. She had been throwing only her negative sensations at him and putting up a wall to all else. Because according to Nigelius Black he could sense his mate's every single feeling unless she concentrated really hard and hid something. And even then she could barely hide one sensation at a time and he could easily push past her wall.

Why did his mate had to be so fucking smart and powerful? She had been hiding so much behind her mental wall. Funny thing was, he was damn convinced that she wouldn't have been his mate if she hadn't been this brilliant. He was a Malfoy and a Black, through and through too, he acknowledged bitterly.

He'll have to show vulnerability to soften her cement resolve. He will have to open up to her in order to convince her to put aside her walls. He'd just have to figure out which weaknesses to expose and which to keep hidden.

Downing the remaining drink, he got up and apparated back home. Seven hours should be enough book reading, even for his pretty book monger.

Entering the library quietly, the sight before him softened his, most of the time, cold heart. His beautiful girl was sleeping, her head perched over the scattered books on the table. He wondered how she could be this splendid, candidly. Or maybe it was just him. His eyes were blurred, when it came to her.

If only things had been different and she had feelings for him. Because right now he wanted to ravish her senseless. He had come here to drill her long enough to sense her invisible wall crumble and now seeing the sleeping beauty he wanted to shag her into oblivion. Unfortunately he was bursting with love and adoration, so he decided to do neither.

He quietly walked up to her and looked at her petite form with so much passion, it would've been heartbreaking for an audience, had there been any. And then he took her in his arms, bridal style and walked a slow careful walk back to their bedroom.

The last thought before he softly kissed her cheek, brushed her hair and put her to bed was how lightweight she was.

 **...**

He woke up with a start, without opening his eyes, he noted that he was under the intense scrutiny of a pair of bright brown orbs. He kept his breath in check, lest his uneven breathing give away his wakefulness. He heard her sigh. He kept quiet. He felt her touch her fingers across his cheek like he had, not long ago, and stopped himself from stiffening, with all the effort he could muster. She kept her hand on his face for a couple of minutes and he was in a confused, disbelieving frenzy. When she let her hand slide away from his face, his sense of loss was treading near painful.

"You are an epitome of complexity, Draco Malfoy and I don't know what to do with you." she whispered.

He heard her turn on her side, her back towards him and after a while her breathing evened. He kept still for a longtime, before a disturbing sleep consumed him as well.

 **...**

Instinct. It's a funny thing. It was that moment in Malfoy's life when he knew that this day would be different. It would be a game changing day before it even came to pass. It was the kind of feeling that was hard to describe, but unquestionably strong nonetheless.

His day started off with a sight of towel-clad angelic Hermione. She had woken up before him and was just coming out of the bathroom to grab a pair of knickers from her drawer when he woke up and glimpsed her flawless skin. Bottom line, his morning was delightful.

When he came down to the dining hall, all dressed and ready to jumpstart on project Hermione, she was already halfway through her breakfast. Seeing him enter the hall, she put her spoon down and gave him a small smile. Seeing her smile, he spoke, "Good morning, is it?"

Her smile faltered but she replied softly, "Ahan."

"And why, may I ask, is it?"

She just shrugged, but a small smile was still playing on her lips. And for some stupid reason, one came to his lips too.

"Oh I don't know, it just seems like one of those days."

Before he could keep the conversation going, Berty popped in front of him, with his breakfast. He tucked in, when the elf stammered, "Master, at what time shall I lay your clothes out for you to leave for the annual dinner at the Nott house?"

Oh damn it. He had totally forgotten about the dinner at Theodore's mansion. He had his hands full with his headstrong mate lately. Turning his head towards Hermione, he stared at her as she silently ate her breakfast. She was quietly chewing her cereal, unaware of his weighing gaze.

He didn't know how to ask her to go there with him. He could and she would probably agree but the bigger issue was how to warn her about the social debauchery and facade of the pureblood community, without ensuing a massive argument.

He had to try though, so he began, "Hermione, I have to attend this dinner at Nott's. It has got to do more with business and politics, than hanging out with a bunch of old friends and I want to take you there with me."

Despite his best efforts it sounded somewhat like an order than a request. But she agreed, "Okay."

What? Just like that. Something was different. She was being cooperative. Something had changed between them, since yesterday.

He didn't know how to respond to that so he just blurted, "Your clothes will be laid out by one of my mother's elves. And tomorrow we'll go shopping."

"Whoa! Hold your horse Malfoy. First of all, I know how to dress up for a dinner. And second of all, I have clothes. I don't need you to take me shopping."

He smiled an indulgent smile and informed her calmly, "Hermione, you are brilliant. You truly are, but fashion and pureblood propriety are just not your genres. Trust me, this is the right idea. You'll know after tonight. And I know you don't need clothes. I just want to buy you some more."

For once, Hermione Granger, was speechless and he was thrilled to see that. But he still had to warn her. Pureblood gatherings are no laughing matter. They are like sick hungry wolves and she'll be a deer in wolves den.

He was not afraid about a physical confrontation because it won't come to that, he'll ensure that. He was worried about the verbal blows they'll throw at her and the emotional scars those words would leave. He was in for the long haul. She'll be his for life and if tonight went catastrophic, she'll never forget, but more importantly, he'll never be able to forget.

He had to get the message across so he spoke very carefully, "Hermione, it's a pureblood gathering. It's not like a usual Wizarding gala. There'll be ex-deatheaters present, most of whom still follow those ideals religiously. Honey, they'll try to break you down and that will be partly because of who you are and partially because of who you are with. You have to stay strong."

Malfoys are a bunch of double-crossing, power abusing, mad men, himself included, he thought. People only ever hate or fear them, both of which are great motivations for betrayal. Brushing his hands through his hair in frustration, he continued, "Look, what I am trying to say is that this will be their first time seeing us together and they'll be merciless. All I ask of you is to be ruthless in return."

He was genuinely troubled. His piss poor excuse of friends will rip her to pieces to get to him. He couldn't imagine what they would do to Hermione if they found out that he was a Veela and she was his soul mate. He knew, his carefully constructed facade was dropping and his worry was shining on his face.

If nothing else, she understood his worry. And he saw her frown and then hold his fist in her shaking hand in reassurance.

"Don't worry Malfoy. I am not a doll. I don't break easy."

He was not reassured. Not in the slightest. He was past paranoia. If she was hurt in any way, he'll kill em all. And then himself. Hermione in pain was hurtful for him and unbearable to his Veela. He didn't know how long his mental frenzy went on but then he was hit by something. An invisible burst of sensation which he could only register as reassurance and comfort projected towards him, by Hermione.

He was baffled. He looked into those beautiful golden-brown eyes and he breathed a sigh of relief. She was so sure of herself, of her power and his ability to protect her. He couldn't decipher how he was getting all that. But he was sensing her passing emotions, exactly as she was. Getting what she was getting, especially when it was a good vibe, was such a heady feeling.

She'll be alright. He'll be there and he won't let anything happen to her, he promised to himself. Squeezing his hand one more time, she took hers back and he mildly felt the warmth dissipating.

Shifting nervously on her seat, she blurted, "So, did you put me to bed last night?"

"Yeah, you fell asleep in the library."

"Thank you." she said, rather quietly.

There was a long awkward silence between them, as they both finished their breakfasts. He cleared his throat and proposed on a lighter note, "Alright, I better leave for office. I'll pick you up from the hospital."

She laughed cutely, "You don't have to pick me up. I can apparate back to the Manor on my own."

He gave her a 'don't be silly' look. To which she blushed and looked away. "How about five?"

"Five's fine."

He got off the chair and unsurely leaned onto her. She didn't flinch or shy away so he kissed her square on the lips. It was a soft gentle kiss but what made it special was that she was an equal participant. She was kissing him back with matching ardour. He never wanted it to end. He was dying for more. He was always craving more. And more.

But she pulled away. And he let her.

"Umm I'll be outside Mungo's at five. Bye." And she couldn't have apparated any faster.

He apparated to his office, and got busy in the world of galleons.

 **...**

He had been buried in meetings the whole day, which doesn't mean that she wasn't a constant presence in his mind. Because she so was. He had been multi-tasking, thinking about Hermione and running a multi-billion galleon empire.

Hence, he was patiently waiting for his girl outside St. Mungo's at five minutes to five. Things had gotten much smoother between him and Hermione and he realized that if she let him in wholly, he would be able to breathe freely.

But life is never this simple, the girl, the guy and the happy ending. No. It's supremely more convoluted than that. Even if Hermione accepts him and falls for him. There is the whole other issue of her accepting his world and embracing it. Because the circle that he associates with, is way beyond her depth.

He liked to think of himself as a rather contained person. Not because he doesn't indulge in any troubling activities, but because he has done them all and was now thoroughly cleansed and over them. But he has to be a part of the darker side of the wizarding spectrum because his business and political influence runs through that ring.

Next was the matter of Lucius, who wouldn't accept a muggle-born as his son's life partner. But who gives a fuck about Lucius, especially after his past indiscretions. His only worry was his separation from his mother if things didn't work out between the father and the son. Narcissa Malfoy was a doting mother but she was an even more loyal wife and she would never leave Lucius's side. Besides he couldn't possibly make her choose between the two most important people in her life.

All those unresolved problems were beginning to give him a headache when he saw Hermione leaving the building and coming towards him. He pushed all his worries aside and focused his stark concentration upon her.

"Malfoy."

"Hermione."

There was the smallest hint of a smile on her face. Either she had a good day or, if he dared hope, happy to see him. So he implored, "Good day at work?"

"Oh no. It was absolutely mad in my ward today. My patients and I, had a bad day."

Get the fuck outta here. Was she happy to see him?

"What happened?"

"Two of my patients were supposed to get discharged today, if their reports had been cleared. But the results were not optimistic. And one of my patients had been in a fire accident. He was in a lot of pain, the whole day, despite the heavy dose of pain-easing potion."

He didn't give a knut, about her patients. But he was glad, she was telling him, in such detail, about the day. Hermione was willingly sharing her work day with him. She is warming up to him, or maybe the idea of him.

The thing was he was never interested in anything but sex when it came to women. But with this one, the urge to have her, possess her in every way possible, physical and otherwise, was exhausting. He wanted to know everything. What she thought? What she did? Every bloody thing. And the satisfaction of her telling him, at her own free will, was truly gratifying.

"Malfoy!"

"Yeah?"

"Let's get going."

Oh but he had other plans. "We have time. Let's get some drinks before we head home."

"No, I wanna get back to the Manor. I am tired. And I have to get ready for the Dinner."

He loved Hermione. He really did. It had been some time since he had stopped denying the obvious truth. But he was still him, the domineering Draco Malfoy, who had to have his way. She needs to get used to that. So he calmly voiced, "We won't be there long. Let's go."

He counted the increasing number of lines on her forehead. She was irritated, but after a long pause, she took his outstretched hand. They apparated to the Blaise Establishment, and he walked her straight to his usual secluded spot.

Sitting down, he ordered their drinks. When the waitress left, Hermione spat, "I can order my own drink Malfoy. Stop bossing me around."

"That is the best drink here. So, I ordered it for the both of us." He said that as if nothing happened.

Fixing his mercury eyes on her, tapping his fingers on the table, he whispered, "So, what happened after the war ended?"

She took her time and sipped her drink. "I didn't go back to Hogwarts for the seventh year. But I did give my NEWTs. After that, Harry and Ron started their Auror training."

Who gives a shit, about what they did? He certainly do not.

"And I went to the 'British Academy for Healers'. After graduation, I started working at St. Mungo's and I have been there, ever since."

That was short. "And what about boys?"

"What about Harry and Ron?"

He laughed at her obvious ignorance and corrected her, "I meant, your dating life?"

"What about it?" she croaked, and tucked her hair behind her ears, nervously.

Nice. Now, she was being deliberately ignorant.

"How many guys have you been with Hermione?" He spat.

She took her time and just when he was sure she wouldn't answer him, she started, "Ron and I, we kissed during the final battle, but it felt wrong. So after the war ended, I told him. And thank God, he felt the same way, so nothing happened between us."

"Go on."

She gave him a steely glare, "You remember Cormac Mclaggen?"

"Yeah, the one who was in Hogwarts with us?"

"Hmm, he was at the Academy too. He was not studying there, but his organization funded the academy, so he was there a lot. He asked me out a couple of times, and we went out for about a month before I broke up with him."

Her taste in men is awful. Weasley and then Mclaggen. He was jealous, nonetheless. He almost didn't want to know who came next.

But she continued, "After graduating, I went out with Vicrtor Krum for a while, before we ended it. We had some drastically different opinions. And that's it."

What? How could that be it? She was hiding stuff from him.

"Stop lying to me. Tell me about others."

"What others Malfoy? There were no other guys."

"Oh please."

"Seriously Malfoy. I know I don't have a very impressive past but you don't have to rub it on my face."

How is that possible? Men must have thrown themselves at her. And he asked her just that.

She blushed profusely but replied shyly, "So? That doesn't mean, I went out with every guy who asked me out."

Hermione Granger, what am I gonna do with you? He mused. He was overjoyed, because it hadn't been as bad as his wild imagination had crept up.

"Now your turn."

No. No. No. How could he tell her about his past, especially after hearing hers? Hers had been, to his never ending joy, very little. So he declared, "We are getting late. Let's head back to the Manor."

She was enraged. She threw her arms in the air and shouted, "You've got to be kidding me. WE are not going anywhere, until you tell me your list."

This was bad. They had a glaring contest. A long one. And he realized that she meant what she said. Crossing his arms, feigning indifference, he told her, "Couple of years ago, I was in a relationship with Clara Bradshaw. We went out for two months before we broke up. That's it"

"What? That's it? That is not it. Tell me the whole truth. You must have been in more than one relationship."

He shook his head.

"Come on, Malfoy."

He looked her right in the eye, "Don't you get it? Do you want me to spell it out for you, Hermione?

She was still confused so he spat, rather crudely, "All the others were one night stands."

He was writhing inside, with worry.

"How many?"

What? They were treading on dangerous ground. "You want the exact number?"

"Yes."

"I don't know the exact figure."

She threw daggers at him and hissed menacingly, "Wow, you are messed up, Draco Malfoy."

He pulled his hair, for the massive fuck up and tried to explain it to her, "Look that is how my world works. I grew up seeing that all around me."

"You are unbelievable. Do you have any idea, how degrading it is, to know that you are with me because of some genetic fuck-up. Because otherwise you would have been fucking a new girl, every day."

He was angered at her crude insult. She was the damn reason, he hadn't even been in a serious long-term relationship. She was the one who ripped his heart out of his chest, ages ago and had it with her since then. He wanted to drill it into her. He wished to make her understand that. But he knew she would never, in a billion years, believe that. So he kept silent and looked at her hopelessly.

She smiled a sad, helpless smile and got up. "I am leaving. I need to get away from you. You are unhealthy for me, Malfoy."

He threw his chair away, and towered over her. Rage rising, like fire, inside him. But she put her hands up and whispered monotonously, "Don't worry, I'll be at the Manor, ready for the Gala, at seven."

And before, he could stop her, she flashed away.

 **…..**

 **A/N**

 **Hey guys. I hope, you all liked this chapter. It was game changing, right? And long too :D**

 **Next one will be up soon. It'll also be a turning chapter.**

 **I am sorry for the mistakes.**

 **Please review. Your reviews are so important to me.**

 **Lastly, thank you so so much for your comments and honest opinions.**

 **I honestly, wouldn't have been able to keep going, without your support.**


	9. Struck

**Infernal Dominion**

 **9\. Struck**

 **"She was a drug. A slow poison. Entering his bloodstream, slowly taking effect."**

 **...**

Click. Click. Creak. Click.

He could hear her coming down the dark wooden stairs.

It was five to seven and she was right on time. His gaze was fixed on the fireplace, his back to the staircase. He was twisting his impeccably set tie askew. Taking a deep whiff of Hermione's addictive scent, he turned around, with a glass of firewhiskey in his left hand.

The sight that greeted his sharp intense eyes, brought a sudden gleam to them. And he wasn't sure whether that was because of how utterly, maddeningly and completely breathtaking she looked, or because of how severely her clothing clashed. Or maybe it was because of her boldness, her audacity.

She was adorning a body-hugging, flowy floor length, lush Slytherin green, silk dress that complimented her side-swept, bright honey-brown hair magnificently and brought out her warm chocolate-brown eyes. They reminded him of hot cocoa in shivering cold winter. She was a sight to behold.

He had specifically asked for that dress to be laid out for her. He wanted to see her wearing his colors. He knew, he was twisted like that. But his precious sweetheart didn't disappoint him. She was amazing, like that.

She had a bright red, fur shawl wrapped around her sleeveless, honey white arms. The red of the shawl clashed strikingly, with the green dress. Just as strongly as their houses. Perfectly, like he and Hermione did.

To top it all off, she had a massive, fist-sized broach, that held the shawl together. The odd thing was how closely, it resembled the Gryffindor badge. Ah, she was daring, headstrong and so very beautiful.

She gracefully came down the stairs and stopped in front of him. Even though he was dying to point out her obvious rebellion, he kept himself in check and gave her a long hard appraising look. "You look ravishing. The dress is made for you. It brings out your eyes, you know."

With a smirk, that could compete with his own, she said with fake innocence, "And what about my shawl? Do you like it?"

He smirked, "No.", so she does have a funny sarcastic side?

"Aw why not?"

He adored the pretty girl but stating the obvious and giving her the satisfaction was not his nature so he stated, huskily, "It hides the pretty skin, underneath."

Well at least that removed the smug smile from her face and she snapped, "Aren't we getting late, Malfoy?"

He stepped right in front of her, barely an inch apart and looked down on her. He was struck by two things, in that moment. One, how small and petite, she was. She barely came up to his chin. Barely. Two, how powerful and willful, she was, for someone so small.

He grazed his fingers, across her soft bare neck, an instinctive move, and she shivered. He conveyed her with his eyes, that he was about to apparate them both, when she brought her hands to his chest and stopped him.

With slighly shaking hands, she touched his tie and silently asked him. He nodded. And she straightened his tie, with sure, confident hands. He gave himself a virtual pat on the back, because he had been counting on her OCD for order. He knew, he was manipulative, but it was a small manipulation that didn't hurt anyone. So, he reasoned with himself, no harm no foul.

Mouthing a quiet 'thank you', he grasped her hand and apparated them to the Nott Mansion.

As soon as they landed outside the intricately carved iron gates of the Mansion, he heard Hermione take in a deep breath and clutch his arm, mesmerized by the sheer extravaganza ahead of them.

"Wow", she blurted, unconsciously.

Theodore has outdone himself, this time. Definitely to impress him, no doubt. After all, he was here to listen to Theo's latest proposal regarding the expansion of his leather industry, among other things.

Directing his gaze back to Hermione, he squeezed her arm, and led her towards the party.

Up until that instant, Draco had been quite composed and relaxed. Maybe because he had spent the better part of his afternoon wondering whether she'll go to the gala with him. Now that she was here, next to him. With him. His composure was crumbling by the second.

The pile of reasons for his ascending worry, were vast and severe. He could feel the heat rising in his body.

He was troubled for the count of ex-deatheaters in attendance. Half of them were his father's age, who still held Voldemorts ideals, firmly. He was perturbed by the amount of people there, who hated her. He was anxious because she'll be judged acutely and he was convinced that she'll fall short. Oh, he didn't give a fuck, what his inner circle, thought of Hermione, but he was sure that she would, especially if they became a thing. He was distressed, for the female populace would slash her open and leave her to bleed. Those were the kind of vultures, the women there are, and his mother won't be there to step up for her, to protect her. And it was against the pure-fricking-blood society to intervene in the matters of women. He was, on edge, as to how badly, her presence, would affect his financial dealings of the night.

But above all that, he was tormented, and beyond scared, that if anyone found out that she was his mate, they would harm her, to harm him. And what a scathing harm that would be. An unbearable, cremating, suffocating harm.

He knew if anything went wrong tonight, he would lose control and it would end in a bloodbath. He was beside himself, lost in his troublesome ruminations and then just like the last time, he was hit by a strong, but ataractic surge of energy.

Hermione was trying to calm him. She was reassuring him, comforting his agonized soul.

It was helpful, however, his increasing worry was not soothed, but he corrected his features and simpered a small smile at her.

Entering the ball room, that was themed black and gold, he fastened his grip on Hermione's arm and led her towards the middle, feigning confidence along the way. She straightened her shoulders and brought out a graceful sureness to her gait. He was impressed by her intrepid facade.

Every single eye was on Hermione. Glaring, fuming, perusing, whispering and disapproving. Oh, where were there aristocratic etiquettes? They certainly play with double-standards. Fixing his cool aloof expression, he turned to Hermione and she was smiling brightly, like a beam of sunshine. Like she was meant to be there. And he asked himself, if his worry was pointless.

They roamed the massive hall, with ardent indifference to the soaring tension in the room. Draco introduced her to the people who held some semblance of importance in his mind. They stopped at each circle and chatted for a while and then went on to the next one.

"Whoa, that's a lot of sneaky business and politics, with very little tête-à-tête."

He grinned, because he was proud of her. She was smart. She was perfect. She wasn't some headless bimbo, there for the ride. She was like a sponge, observing and absorbing everything within vicinity. Without a thought, he bent down and kissed her head.

He kept her close. His hand on her lower back, for her protection and his pleasure. She was soft and hot and sinfully decadent scented.

They spent the evening, with carefully implemented strategy, of not spending more than ten minutes in any group. Because that's the limit for small talk, which must not be exceeded, lest you wanna risk ensuing an argument, which in their present situation was a surety.

It was quarter to nine, when Draco saw Astoria coming towards him. She had been seething and eyeing him from afar the whole night.

Astoria was history. She had been a means to an end. His pleasure, of course. He had been a first-class ass, his whole life but he never made any promises. She just dreamed big and lost hard. And apparently hasn't forgotten, or forgiven.

He braced himself and bent towards Hermione to prepare her, but it was too late, "Hey hey hey, look who's here. Hermione mudblood Granger. "

She leaned to hug Malfoy, as if she hadn't just insulted Hermione, and Malfoy stepped back, out of her reach. Disgusted by her touch. And Astoria lost it, "What the fuck is she doing here Draco?"

She had just voiced what had been going through everyone's twisted mind, the whole evening, so nobody stepped out to shut her up.

He had his one hand tightly wrapped around Hermione's waist, who was rooted to the spot as if frozen, and the other in his pocket, clutching his wand. But before he could retort, Hermione stated in a surprisingly calm voice, "Oh you poor thing, don't you know? Malfoy and I, we are a thing."

Drunk and fuming, Astoria snarled, "You bitch. You worthless scum, you don't deserve to be standing next to Draco."

"Huh. And you do?

"Yes. Yes, I do. I am his equal, in every sense."

Hermione laughed, cruelly, and had she not been clutching his arm in an iron grip, he would've believed her pretense, "Honey, get over yourself. With your minute brain capacity, you'll probably die a nun."

Astoria was beyond angered. And Malfoy was seriously considering intervening, even though it was strictly prohibited to get involved in the woman's fight, when, he heard Pansy, "Don't be such a drama queen Astoria. You are ruining the party."

He was thankful but apprehensive, because Pansy Parkinson was a two-faced bitch, who never does a thing without an ulterior motive.

She stopped next to Hermione and brought her hand out, with a plastic smile on her pug face. "Hello Granger, nice to have you here." Then she turned towards Draco, hugged him and whispered in his ear, "You can come over to my place to thank me for handling your stupidity."

Ah, so she wanted to be fucked. That was the motive. He pushed her away and gave her a tight smile.

Pansy narrowed her eyes, clearly troubled now. She turned her attention back to Hermione who was flushed, and took her hand and spoke, "Let me give you the tour of the grounds. They are quite splendid."

Unsure of what to do, Hermione looked up at him and he shook his head.

Pansy saw it and snapped, "Oh come on Granger, don't let Draco boss you around."

Clearly pissed, he saw Hermione square her shoulders and snap, "Lead the way, Parkinson."

Smirking, Pansy led Hermione away. And he was enraged, like a dragon tickled. But all eyes in the room were on him and he couldn't risk showing his worry and giving his true identity away. He just couldn't endanger the exposure of his Veela identity. So he headed towards Nott, and with immense effort, pretended to listen to his proposal. Which he had already rejected, seeing that his party was causing him so much trouble.

Being the ultimate paradigm of self-preservation, his entire life, this burning ache for the well-being of someone else was a foreign feeling for Malfoy. He tried to calm himself, really truly did. Fifteen minutes of hell, he cursed under his breath and stormed out, towards the gardens, to find 'her'. To shadow her, to veil her from the psycho sociopaths.

As soon as he stepped outside, he heard the shouts, and he started running. He knew before he saw, that the wands were out.

Hermione was surrounded by four Slytherin bitches. Astoria, Daphne, Pansy and Millicent. They were bullying her incessantly. He saw Hermione, still composed but ready to tumble.

He didn't know, what they were spitting at her, but he knew; they were attacking her, verbally, from every angle.

He was only a few paces away, when he saw it all happen, in a detailed slow motion, like a flashback.

Astoria raised her wand, ready to strike, when Hermione whipped her wand at a lightning speed and then there was silence. No movement. No sound.

His exquisite Hermione was standing in the center of four petrified and silenced witches. She looked like a flaming, phoenix, rising from the ashes. And she had never looked as bewitching and appetizing, as in that moment, in his biased opinion.

Draco Malfoy was a controlling, single-minded man, who always gets his way. He liked to be in power, in any role. But seeing her strength and dynamism was, surprisingly, quite a turn on for him.

He walked up to her, with a predatory gleam in his hungry eyes. She made eye-contact, with a superior smug look and feigned boredom.

Halting, barely an inch away from her, he held her gaze. It was comfortably intimate. And he realized with a burst of joy that her ice was melting, albiet slowly, but still. Her carefully concrete-walled, resolve was crumbling. She was accepting him, at her own pace and in her own way. He wondered whether she had any idea, about what he had discovered.

"I told you, I am not some breakable doll." she uttered calmly.

A storm of need, for this girl, was brewing inside him. He was a proud, egoistic, arrogant man but he accepted, in the deepest corner of his heart, that he, Draco Malfoy, was one lucky bastard to be the Veela of this brilliant mate.

He had no words so he blurted, "You are something else, Hermione Granger."

She frowned slightly. But then broke into a small smile. "They'll be here for at least a couple of hours. Let's head back to the gala."

He took her hand and walked back to the dull party.

Re-entering, he saw Blaise and swore at his pathetic timing. His one trustworthy friend, who knew everything about his recent fix, had come to the party, so very late.

Without as much as a nod of acknowledgment, he spat, "Nice timing, Zabini."

Flashing his wide smile, he excused foolishly, "Sorry mate. I got busy with a certain blonde. You know how they are, if you know what I mean." And then he winked.

Malfoy shook his head in evident objection. Before he could say anything else, Blaise spun towards Hermione and bowed, "Don't you look sexy, Granger."

Kissing Hermione's hand, he smirked at the easily riled Draco, who pushed him away from Hermione with the back of his hand.

Blaise barked a laugh, Hermione giggled and Draco was forced into a smile.

The rest of the night went smoothly.

 **….**

 **A/N**

 **Hey pretty people!**

 **I am sorry for the late update. There was something wrong with my account. I couldn't upload the new chapter. It's all fixed now.**

 **I hope you all like this chapter.**

 **I'll upload really soon. Promise.**

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 **Lastly, I am truly humbled by your appreciation and encouragement. Thank you all :D**

 **Oh, and a very Happy New Year Y'all.**


	10. Torment

**Infernal Dominion**

 **10\. Torment**

 _ **"** **Breathed her in and held his sweet pretty girl tight.**_

 _ **Protecting her from everything, including him, this night."**_

It was late, the kind of late that makes you curse a lot, the following morning. They apparated back to the Manor, bone-breaking tired. Hermione was literally strutting in her high heels, from 'Madam Malkin's 'It Witch' collection.

Ridiculously relieved, because the night had went well. At least as well as it could be, when a Gryffindor enters a Slytherin's den. He had his arm, still wrapped around her small waist, which made him smile for two things. Firstly, because intimacy with her, no matter how small, was elating for him. And secondly because she was letting him touch her.

As soon as they entered the main door, Hermione took off her stilettoes and sighed in ease. She walked barefoot through his home and a sudden unprecedented thought rose in his sharp head, 'Barefoot and Pregnant in the kitchen'. The thought made him stop in his tracks. It was so sudden, so electrocuting but such a strong urge, as if it had always been there.

Hermione turned towards him, and whispered, "What happened? Are you alright?"

Too shocked to respond, he just shook his head and started walking behind Hermione. She led the way, he just followed, lost in his lecherous thoughts.

He argued with himself, trying to understand what this was? He knew he had been in love with the girl, most of his life, but he had survived, the better part of that span, without her. He recognized that she was his mate, but this unquenchable, not-just-physical all-consuming craze, was now bordering mania.

He was a flawed man, who never pretended otherwise, at least not to himself. But he was no murderer, he was not suicidal, he was no criminal.

Hermione Granger was a whole new allegory, though. Because he confessed, he could kill for her. He could die for her. He was a Veela who would die without his mate, but in that moment, he promised to himself that he'd let her go, if she said so. He could not, but he would. For her happiness, because, to him, it mattered more than his own. It had been for a while now.

He was not a religious man but he prayed with all his being that she would never ask that of him. He knew she was changing, warming up to him, warming up to the concept of them. But they were so far away in the spectrum, he feared that one day she'll realize how truly deranged and crazy he is and leave him.

He ransacked his brains out, to understand how he ended up at the edge of the cliff. He couldn't fathom, the sudden severity of his affection for her.

In all technicality, it was as if his love for Hermione had been a constant for the past ten years, then in the last few days, it had increased exponentially and now in an instant, it had reached its highest peak.

He couldn't give one reason for that. Maybe there was none, maybe there were countless of them.

Maybe it was because she was disarmingly beautiful or because he had never seen such a crazy nest of hair or her scent was the best perfume he had ever smelt.

Or maybe it was for an entirely different world of reasons, because she was challenging, she was a genius, she was strong and soft and willful and knowledgeable and innocent and her precious smile warms his glacial heart every time and her laugh makes him skip a beat. Or maybe it's because she is Hermione Granger and he's Draco Malfoy so he never stood a chance and it was meant to be.

A sharp intake of breath, brought him out of his internal battle and he saw Hermione rooted on the spot, her hands shaking.

"Fuck", he snarled. But it was too late because they were standing in the old ballroom. The room, where she was tortured so brutally, years ago.

He looked at Hermione, standing there shivering. Her eyes shining, ready to leak pools of tears. He knew, she was reliving her torment, her nightmares.

She raised her wand, her hand quivering, and with a slow flick, the letters began to reappear on her arm. The reddish pink scar contrasted visibly against her milky white skin. Seeing that permanently carved gash, was as pain-inflicting for him, as insultingly labelling it was for her.

She was reminiscing the worst night of both their lives. And he had no inclination of what to do. It was as if, he was in a nightmare and sleep-paralysis at the same time. He was frozen, unable to hold, soothe or comfort.

She fell and her knees hit the ground. As if their movements were synchronized, he dropped to the floor too, coming out of his bind.

Hermione was crying, silently. Tears flowing, body heaving, she clutched her knees and rocked.

Noticing a minute too late, that he was experiencing her pain so acutely, because he was absorbing her havoc of emotions through their mental connection, for her wall was a pile of rubble now.

Cursing himself, the entire wizarding world, the whole of humanity, the God, he took her in his arms and held her securely. She sobbed in his arms, clutching him for her dear life, and they lost track of time.

Moments, unknown, passed and they remained there, in each other's arms. Her pain lessened and his anger rose like fiendfyre, but he stayed there because the time for action would come later.

His back and arms hurt, his feet and knees were cold, but he didn't loosen his grip around Hermione. He didn't even shift his position. Malfoy just held her, constantly rubbing his hands around her back, around her arms, trying to soothe her.

Many more moments, still unknown, passed and Hermione became heavy in his arms. Shifting a little, he looked down on her puffy tear-stained face and his heart broke. He wanted to crucio himself, for how could he be this stupid? How could he let this happen to her in his presence? How could he be this absent-minded? What was the purpose of his messed-up existence, if he couldn't even shield her, right under his nose?

Her breathing evened as she fell asleep, in his embrace. He moved to take them to the bedroom, to make her comfortable, for he wouldn't get any tonight, but as soon as he loosened his hold around her, she tightened her grip on his shirt, not letting him go. Seeking his warmth, subconsciously. A small part of him, the cruel sick part, was overjoyed, due to the fact, that he was the source of her comfort. The major part of him, wanted to bring his aunt back to life and torture her till the end of time.

He stayed like that, till the early hours of the morning, rocking her like a baby, keeping her warm and safe. She was fast asleep, so he walked back to their room and put her to bed.

He didn't wish to leave her side, not even for a moment. But he had an urgent matter to attend to. So, he kissed her cheek, tucked the heavy blanket around her and left the room swiftly, wand in hand.

Putting the silencing charm around the room, he stormed inside. Whipping his wand, he broke the massive chandelier and just like the last time, it fell and the floor vibrated and the shatter reverberated around the walls. He was breathing heavily, his anger unabated.

Walking out, he flashed his wand again, and the entire room, along with all the valuables inside, vanished, out of existence.

The supremely elaborate and convoluted spell, drained all his energy and he started walking back to their bedroom, at a disturbingly slow pace, berating himself, the whole way. He was disappointed in himself, for his inefficiency. What happened tonight, should never have happened, not under his watch.

He was a fool, because he had listened to his parents and instead of disappearing the room, out of existence, he had just renovated around it over the years, and falsely thought it was practically hidden.

He relived that torturous night, over and over again, partly to punish himself for his inadequacy tonight and partly because he couldn't help it.

That night held so much over him. It had been a game-changer. He had always been attracted to the dark side because his soul was black and also because 'power' appealed to him. It still did. He was never much concerned behind the two ideologies. The dark side. The light side. They didn't mean much to him. He only cared about power and Voldemort held so much, back then. He was blinded. But then, that night came to pass and he was switched, forever. Her pain, cleansed him of all illusions and he came to his senses. Seeing her suffering, he was disgusted. That was the instant, when in his heart, he became the advocate of her side.

With a sad smile and heavy chest, he remarked, how Hermione had forged his path, every step of the way.

Coming back to bed, he laid next to her, careful not to wake her, when she breathed, "You left me. Where did you go?" Her voice was heavy, sleep-laden.

"Sorry Love."

He remained silent for some time. Lost in his own deep dark thoughts, but then he added quietly, "I had something to attend to baby."

She turned to his side and gazed into his stone-cold eyes. Her stare was speculative, judgmental and calculating as if she was trying to make up her mind about something. About him

Still looking into his eyes, she grazed her forefinger, across his jaw and whispered, "Thank you."

What? He had been expecting anything, but those words. Looking stunned, he raised himself and leaned against the headboard. She got up as well.

"What the hell are you thanking me for?"

She smiled and voiced softly, "For everything."

"What everything Hermione? I didn't do anything. I was useless." he blurted, composure going out of the window.

"Oh Malfoy!" she sighed.

What happened next, he never saw it coming?

She moved and sat right next to him. He could feel her breath on him, as she leaned towards him. Without breaking eye-contact, she spoke calmly, "For holding me."

Moving her hand across his chest, she continued, "For protecting me."

Raising her hands, she brushed his hair and pressed on gingerly, "For not letting me lose it, for I would've still been there, crying my heart out."

He was confused beyond comprehension. He was petrified and Hermione veered further, towards him. Her lips, only a breath away from his.

"For treating me right, because I could never settle for anything less. For providing me with closure. For being my emotional and mental support, in my time of weakness."

She kissed him then, square on the lips. It was soft and gentle but not shy or forced. It was perfect. And for the first time in his life, he was a delayed participant. But he made up, for time, with absolute ardor.

They kept their lips locked, kissing with ardent fervor, until it was necessary to breathe. Still wrapped around each other, they leaned away.

She locked her eyes, on him and hummed tacitly, "So, thank you Draco Malfoy."

He was dazed speechless, so he just stared as she smiled and laid down on her side.

His mind wasn't processing properly, literally because of information overload. He couldn't discern, what had just transpired. But he thanked the Lord for his good fortune and wrapped himself around her. No need for the blankets when he was there. She softened, at his touch and slept like a baby and for all that had come to pass, this night, so did he.

 **…**

 **A/N**

 **Hello Everyone**

 **I don't think this chapter was my best work, so I am sorry if you guys think the same.**

 **Please review and lemme know. And be gentle, please.**

 **I'll upload the next chapter soon.**

 **Thank you all for your support and encouragement. It really means the world to me.**

 **Bye for now :D**


	11. Laundry or Lingerie

**Infernal Dominion**

 **11\. Laundry or Lingerie**

 _ **"Find what you love and let it ill you"**_

\- **Charles Bukowski**

It was squirming quiet. The usual soothing crackling of fire was making the inhabitants of the room, twitchingly uncomfortable.

Both couples were lounging opposite to each other, making it very hard for the younger two, to avoid the blazing glares of the older Malfoys.

Lucius Malfoy hadn't taken his fuming eyes off of his problem child and his mate was just not worth his glance.

Narcissa Malfoy, sitting straight as a rod, her neck high and nose even higher in the air. Disappointment evident in her posture. She too had her piercing eyes on Draco, who was looking straight back at his aristocratic parents. Defiance, dripping from his confident unblinking eyes.

He was calm and composed, unlike his mate, who was fidgeting and looking everywhere except the present Malfoys. All three of them.

He noticed the subtle, almost unrecognizable change. His father's grip on his cane tightened, his eyes narrowed and there was a slight tilt to his head. And Draco knew that the confrontation was about to begin.

"You made quite a scene son." Lucius slithered. "Even France got the news."

"It was unavoidable." he replied in a monotonous voice.

"Ah. I don't think so. It was most definitely avoidable."

Draco was about to retort when Lucius brought his pale hand in the air and stopped him.

"Draco you've made tremendously poor choices. Your choice of a mate. Poor. Your choice of taking this girl to the Nott's. Stupid. Your choice of keeping it from your own father. Unforgivable."

It was funny, how quickly the conversation had spiraled downward and how aware he was of every movement around him. The slight nod her mother was giving to every line his father was spitting at him. The sharp intake of breath and clenching of fists from Hermione. She was angry.

Well, join the club honey, because he was pissed too.

"Father... "

"Don't you dare father me. Your actions have cost us our reputation and quite some deals. More than half our community is lashing out. Be grateful, Zabini's and Nott's are not that forgetful of our generosity. Because the Parkinson's, Lestrange's, Carrow's and Greengrass's are thrilled for the mistake that you've made. Thank Merlin, Zabini's and Nott's are not that forgetful of our generosity. You have given them the perfect opportunity to dare speak against us. They are making their moves Draco, to step on us and rise above. How could you be so foolish? This girl. This Mu... Muggle-born. You couldn't have been more careless."

He kept quiet. He waited a minute, to silently convey that he better not be interrupted again. His father's face twitched, showing his ill-concealed impatience.

He took a deep breath and began carefully, "I don't know why you are so disappointed father. Let's start one by one. My choice of mate. Who could've been better?" He shrugged questioningly.

Pointing his finger at the flushed and obviously uncomfortable Hermione, he continued, "She is the brightest witch of her age. She is a bloody war heroine. If anything that adds to our reputation. I am sure half the purebloods are angered but imagine the support we are gaining. I hate to say this father but when we are gaining the Minister of Magic, the Order and Harry Fucking Potter as our speakers, I really don't see any harm being done."

He hated it. He hated the fact that he was voicing all the wrong attributes of Hermione and right in front of her as well. But he had no other option. He had to calm and convince Lucius. So he moved on, "As for her blood. It's more powerful than any other girl that I could've chosen for myself. And her loyalty would be unquestionable, if gained. She is a bloody Gryffindor after all. Also, the sooner the news got out, the better because sooner or later, it was inevitable."

Seething now, he sneered, "As for the newspapers, I am sure it won't be as bad as it was during your trial Father."

Hermione gasped and his parents were on their feet in an instant. His comment was out of line, but at least it got the discussion over.

Without breaking contact, he moved and stopped right in front of the enraged Lucius. They were of the same height, but somehow his father still managed to look down on him and drawled, "Fix this. Or I will fix it for you and it won't be pretty, I promise."

Throwing daggers at his father, he saw him go to Hermione who instantly had her guard up. Lucius smirked, "Miss Granger, Welcome back to the Manor. How's your stay this time?"

The delinquency of his father. That man. He hissed under his breath but stopped when Hermione smirked, her Malfoy like smirk that she had learned in the past few days and hummed softly, which made the message even more powerful, "Definitely better than the last time. No thanks to you."

With the smile still plastered on her face, she walked up to him and kissed him, right on the lips, right in front of his parents. Oh that little minx of his. She'll be the death of him.

"See you in the bedroom, love. Don't be long."

Turning to his mother, who had been quiet the whole time, Hermione said with a nod of registration, "Mrs. Malfoy."

And then she left, her gait, flawless.

He smiled inwardly when he saw the same expression of awe on his parents faces as was on his. They were impressed albeit reluctantly. His mother, the epitome of aristocratic pureblood pride was intrigued by Hermione. And that was more than enough, for now.

Giving his mum a hug, he shook his father's icy hand and bade them goodnight. He didn't want to, but his upbringing forced him to do that before leaving the room.

He took a deep breath, of relief and exhaustion and started walking back to his bedroom.

He wondered abstractedly, about the change his life was going through. Before all this, he had a carefree, luxurious living. It was a sinful living, the kind many a people would kill for. It wasn't, however, a very happy one. Now, being a Veela, all his senses and sensations were heightened. He felt deeply. He demanded more and gave so much more.

The stinging part of the equation was that his happiness was a dependent variable. He had no power over it. The contentment and joy in his life, was dependent upon Hermione's.

Everything that he had said to his parents was true. She was way stronger than any pureblood that he could have ever picked for himself. She was much well-reputed than him. She was just as acclaimed as he was and way more praised. She would serve to be a loyal partner. Even now, with all his flaws and moments of stark possessiveness and jealousy, and with her distant mistrustfulness, he knew she was sincere in her efforts and their slowly progressing relationship.

He knew, she still needed time, to trust him explicitly. He was willing to give her that because he hadn't forgiven himself for the psychotic episode in her apartment. She will come to him willingly and they'll mate and be one.

And then he will have a talk with her. He needed his control back, for both their sanities. He liked to have things in his control and they were so out of his hand, these days.

Entering his room, he saw Hermione perched up on the windowsill, lost in her thoughts, like he had been moments ago.

She looked up at him and crooned, "That was fun."

Sense of humor. Thank Merlin, she had that.

He smiled and gazed at her. "Sorry about what I said earlier."

She stood up and he saw what she was wearing. Hermione had a black silk night dress on, that barely reached her mid thighs. She looked sexy as fuck. Too bad he couldn't do that, just yet.

The view was spectacular, moonlight falling on her perfect skin and illuminating it splendidly. He puzzled speculatively, over the sudden change in her choice of night wear. Was it because she was out of ugly sleep-wear or because she was trying for him? Either way, he's going to order the house elves to hold onto her laundry indefinitely.

Slowly, he roved his heated blaze from her head to her toes and back again. His message clear. She gulped. He grinned, predator mode on.

She took a step back and he pushed her two steps back. Hermione hit the window softly. She was trapped between the window and his body, her chest heaving. He licked his lips as he gazed at her, parted bee-stung lips and he was possessed.

He kissed her hungrily, taking his fill. Biting her bottom lip, he pushed his tongue in her hot mouth and their tongues clashed. It was erotic and rough and wild. The kiss was perfect and they kept at it.

He drifted his hands, towards her neck, towards her heaving breasts. He grabbed her mounds and they fit his hands perfectly. He groaned and she shivered under his unabashed ministrations.

Lowering his hand, he pushed her dress up and she gasped. Coming back to reality. He cursed under his breath but stopped because he would never force her into anything. He stepped back, she peeked at him through her long lashes and smiled shyly. He didn't have the capacity to smile, because he had a rather large hard-on to deal with. So, he stormed into the bathroom for relief.

After much cursing, unfulfilling relief and a quick shower, he entered their bedroom.

The bane of his existence was sitting near the fireplace, reading paper. Her features were tight with anger. What the fuck was she angered about? He walked up to her and she sighed.

He stopped next to her and she looked up and sighed in frustration, again. He couldn't help but smile and she hissed at him.

Rolling his eyes, he asked, "What?"

She pointed her finger at the paper and sneered, "This. They have a name for us."

Disturbed, he barked, "What?"

He was sure, it was something like, 'War Heroine and the Slytherin Snake' or something along those lines.

She put her hands on her face in embarrassment and shook it slightly. Oh, it must be worse.

He asked her again, "What is it, Hermione?"

She peered at him, through her fingers and intoned in a flustered voice, "Dramione."

He laughed so hard then, he was sure he cracked a rib.

It was good. They were good. The writers of 'The Daily Prophet'.

He couldn't stop laughing and his eyes got wet and he grabbed her shoulder for support.

She pushed him away and walked towards the bathroom.

"Hey."

She narrowed her eyes at him and spat with feigned menace. "I am going for a bath. I'll come out when you stop laughing."

He couldn't stop himself and he smirked in between laughter, "That might be a while."

She stormed in and shut the door on his face. And he burst into a fresh bout of laughter.

 **…**

 **A/N**

 **Hey Hey Hey,**

 **How was it? Please review. I read and respond to every review because they all are so amazing and they make me so happy.**

 **I hope you guys liked this chapter. Also, did you like the Dramione part? :D**

 **I'll update really soon.**

 **Only a few more chapters left. They'll be long though.**

 **Love,**

 **Anna**


	12. Plan B

**Infernal Dominion**

 **12\. Plan B**

 _ **"It was insane, unconstrained and sovereign kind of love."**_

"You are in a foul mood."

"When your mate goes to meet other guys, you don't have much control over your mood Blaise."

"What?", Blaise Zabini barked in shock.

"She went to see Potter and Weasley."

Blaise laughed and he felt like smacking that sly grin off his friends face, but he went on, "Apparently she needed to convince them about 'Our situation'."

He was so pissed at her. She doesn't shy down from anything. Hermione is so confident in her rightness, in her will behind her actions that she never bows down to his demands.

He had woken up, planning a nice calm breakfast in the gardens with her because things had been going rather well between them, when he saw her leaving the bathroom all pretty and dressed up. And then she informed him about her early breakfast with Potty and Weasel saying, "I miss them terribly and they deserve to know about ... Our Situation."

He was irked by her meeting with friends, by her boldness. But most of all he was angered by the term that she had used, 'Our Situation'. She could have said relationship. Why didn't she?

Clapping his hands together, Blaise got up to leave and voiced calmly, "I am here for you mate, even though most of the pureblood community is out for your head."

Then he laughed again. Why did he have a best friend who was such a lunatic.

So, Malfoy glared and pointed a very crude gesture at him and Blaise left grinning like a bloody idiot.

And he was left with his over-imaginative mind, revolving around dark corrupt thoughts about Hermione.

 **...**

It was late evening when she got back from work, and he accepted that he had spent most of the day sulking.

He saw her storming in and got up. He needed to smell her, to touch her to calm his jumbled nerves. Because lately, he was always on edge in her absence, courtesy of the delay in mating with her.

But one look at her fierce expression and he stopped. Hoping it was something her friends did and not him. But even though he was wishing it, he knew the anger was directed solely at him. And in all the messed-up-ness, Malfoy got a sick satisfaction because he knew he was the only one who could get her riled up like that.

"You overbearing, loathsome snake, how dare you?"

He raised his eyebrows, not sure what was his most recent mistake.

"Oh don't give me that look Malfoy. You know exactly what I am talking about."

Trying to calm her down, he raised his hands to grab her shoulders but she pushed him away and fumed, "Why do you always jump to the worst possible conclusion? How could you think so low?"

"I really don't know what you are talking about.", he snarled.

"Seamus. I am talking about a black-eyed Seamus."

Ah, Finnigan. He visibly winced.

"You beat him up because you thought I was dating him. Malfoy!"

And then she stomped her foot so childishly that he smiled.

She threw daggers at him and shook her head.

He decided to take the Slytherin way out and whispered, "Look it's a Veela trait. I lost it, when I saw you with him. I thought you were dating him before you found out about being my mate. It wasn't me. I was consumed by my Veela nature."

She quirked an eyebrow and spat, "I thought it was one and the same."

Damn. She was smart.

And he threw the facade aside and strode towards her. His eyes gleaming. His barely concealed anger seeping and he told her monotonously, "I did what I had to do. You are mine. I won't have you meeting another man."

The rage that flashed in her eyes then was all-consuming but he didn't back down and spoke, "In this, I have no doubt, as a Veela."

Boring his eyes into her, he finished, "And as a Malfoy."

She was stunned. He didn't know what she would do so he waited.

She narrowed her eyes at him, speculatively and then her face broke into a smirk. A vengeful smirk.

She walked up to him, patted his cheek with the smirk still plastered on her face. "We'll see."

And then she strode out with a self-assured gait.

"And where exactly, are you going? "

She stopped and turned. The smile on her lips and the rage in her eyes, polar opposite, "Off to apologize to a friend."

And before he could stop her, she left to meet Seamus Finnigan.

 **...**

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, winced in unison and stared at each other, at the ear-splitting yowl from their son.

 **...**

He'd tie her to the bed and never let her leave the room, ever again. Just as soon as she gets back. And in bed.

It was late, past dinnertime and Draco couldn't fathom, how an apology could take this long. Maybe she was having dinner with him. And he cursed obscenely.

Knowing he wasn't thinking straight, he took a cold shower. He went to his study and busied himself in work and booze.

It was past midnight when Berty informed him about Hermione's return. And he stormed back to his bedroom, to have words with his girl.

She was sitting on the couch, a drink in hand. When she saw him enter, she got up and sauntered towards him. Her eyes darkened and his jaw clenched and she breathed in his face, quietly, "Do not pull that autocratic crap on me ever again."

Maybe it was because, she spoke so deadly or because he was glad that she was back. Or maybe it was because that deep down he knew he was in the wrong. Whatever the reason maybe, he just grabbed her and kissed her hungrily to reassure himself that they were okay.

She stayed still and he kept on kissing her, trying to get her to kiss back. She finally softened in his arms and responded. Not missing a beat, he pushed her on the couch and kissed her with surprising gentleness. Her ardour ensured him that all was not lost.

Stopping to take a breath, she whispered, "You are an epitome of complexity, Malfoy and I don't know what to do with you."

He looked into her dilated pupils and kissed her on the nose. She laughed and the sound made his heart melt. And he snogged her senseless.

 **...**

He woke up with the start, and realized that they had dozed off on the wide couch. Hermione tucked next to him, embracing him. Her sweet scent calming him. Carefully he picked her up in his arms, all soft and warm and feather light, and took her to bed. She just curled into a ball and smiled contentedly. Undecided, he looked at the granfather clock in the corner. It was pretty late but he was wide awake now. He could spend hours looking at her, inhaling her in, touching her perfect skin, tasting her. He groaned at his wayward thoughts and tried to suppress his rising excitement.

He laid next to her, on his stomach, his elbows supporting his torso and surveyed her body. She gave a small sigh and he wondered what she was dreaming about?

An idea struck in his mind and he tilted his head, contemplating. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to sense her passing emotions with all his mental capacity.

The wall was still up but barely standing and with a slight push he breached in. He barely registered that it was fairly similar to legilimency, before he was hit with the force of her mind.

She was feeling a variety of sensations. Ooh, there was sadness for craving something out of reach. There was desire and embarassment for desiring. What? He didn't get that. There was a hint of lust or maybe something stronger. He knew he was the source of all the emotions, she slept in his arms after all.

He had always been a spoiled, self-serving man who had no qualms, whatsoever, in getting what he wanted, by any means necessary. But just this once he couldn't make himself access her emotions anymore. In fact he felt shitty for the initial breach. And like a love-struck git, he left her mind alone.

Sighing, he consented to sleeping next to her. Touching the tip of his forefinger to her forehead, he Grazed his finger across her flawless skin, passing her pink cheeks, the tip of her nose, her pointy jaw, her long neck, her collarbone. He dare not go any lower, in fear of losing against his primitive side. From there on downwards, he roamed his eyes and lost himself in everything Hermione Granger.

 **...**

An extravagant overture wouldn't have worked with her. Taking her for a stroll in the village near the Manor was definitely a good idea. She was walking silently beside him, a small secretive smile tugging at her lips.

They hadn't conversed since they had left the Manor right after breakfast, which had been uncomfortable. In fact it was so awkward that painfully uncomfortable was an understatement. His mother had been too attentive, his father too stiff as if hit by a rather strong 'Petrificus Totallus'. His beloved had been overly fidgety, biting her bottom lip, swollen. And he was way too amused. This was not good. He could imagine himself living like this for the rest of his life. This was unhealthy.

Now passing the small hill behind which was the spot he had actually brought her to see. Halting and turning towards her, he said carefully, "This had been my favorite spot while growing up."

He tried to convince himself, he was showing this to her to make her see him as a person and not as a former deatheater slash lifelong enemy. But deep down he knew, his reason was solely his need to share himself, his life, with her.

They reached the top of the hill and her breath hitched.

Looking down the hill was a field, wide and circular, filled with roses of every colour. Each colored rose divided into long circular stripes. And when you looked below from the hill, the view was of a huge colourful rose made of roses.

She was awestruck. The view was breathtaking but her happiness had more to do with the fact that he had shown her something so strikingly beautiful. He did have a heart then. A cold black heart but a heart, nonetheless.

She kept looking at the view, it was so stupendous. And he kept gazing at her, she was a far better view, in his eyes.

He was surprised when, her happiness hit him. She was projecting it at him. Deliberately showing him that she was pleased. Disbelief was obvious on his face when she laughed prettily and looked in his eyes.

"Thank you for the wonderful view Draco."

She called him Draco. He was so self-obsessed that he had always loved his name because it his name. But it had never sounded as delightful as it did from her lips. He wanted to hear her say it again and again.

"It's nothing. I have seen better.", he huskily replied, his meaning clear and his gaze heated. She blushed profusely and he laughed. She was decadently innocent and refreshing.

"I don't know if this is really you or you pretending, to get in my pants."

Why does she have her guard up all the time. He gave her a stony smile, "a little bit of both."

Her low "I can live with that.", intrigued him. What did that mean? Is she ready?

"Beauty aside, I brought you here because this place was a safe haven, during Voldemort's reign. When he was residing at the Manor, I used to come here to clear my head, to get away from all the torment and darkness."

She stared at him, long and hard. And then they walked back to the Manor, silently, lost in their own thoughts.

He was glad she didn't discuss it further or tried to console him. He would've hated the pity gesture from her.

She went straight to the library and he to his office, and tried to forget this impatient unwilling waiting.

 **...**

Next morning was different. He knew it before opening his eyes. He tried to capture the reason and a frown formed on his otherwise relaxed face. Then he sensed a number of sensations. She was happy, blissfully relaxed, deliciously soft, and willingly in his bed. It was a great morning indeed.

He knew, it was nowhere near what he wanted from her. Nothing compared to his obsessive passion because he wanted all-consuming, unadulterated love and loyalty from her.

He opened his eyes and looked into big bright honey-gold eyes. She was right in his face, looking down in his eyes. His manhood welcomed her closeness quite enthusiastically and her face turned into one of shock and then embarassment. And she got off the bed.

"I was just about to thank you for yesterday. The view was great and telling me about why it's important to you meant a lot."

He smirked and looked down at the bulge in his boxer shorts. Wiggling his eyebrows he commented, "Come on then, I would just love to be thanked."

Her eyes turned round, like saucers and she sniped, "I did not mean it like that."

"How did you mean it then Hermione?"

She blushed and looked away. But whispered, "I don't know. I was just gonna kiss you on the cheek and say thank you."

"That's not good enough.", he snapped. Of course he would love that kiss from her but it was not what he wanted, not even close. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her, bite her, mark her. Make her scream for him. And she was going to give him a peck. He was pissed. He was agitated. He was weak because he needed to claim her as his, as a veela. And he wanted to fuck her, really really bad.

He had been patient for her sake. Surviving on her scent, on her slight touches and she was talking about a fucking peck on the cheek.

He wanted to repeatedly hit and break something into minute pieces. Trying to control that roaring rage in front of her and failing miserably, he gave up and got off the bed.

She followed behind him and touched his shoulder softly, "I am sorry. I... I am not ready for that yet. I need time. I still have my doubts."

Swinging his shoulder away from her reach, he snarled, "Fuck you. And fuck your doubts. I am in hell here Hermione."

Something snapped in her too, he saw that in her eyes before she spat, "It's not of my creation, Malfoy. And I am sorry if I want love."

Fuck! What? She wanted love. Well honey, I have it right here, in abundance.

"And what the fuck am I offering?"

"Clearly, not love."

"Clearly? Seriously, how?", he rolled his eyes.

She was losing her temper, her voice rose into a snarl, "You don't love me. You are incapable of loving me Malfoy. A mudblood. You are just obsessed with me because you are a Veela and I am your unfortunate mate. You wouldn't have given me the time of the day, if it hadn't been for that"

Incapable. Incapable of love. Okay, now he wad beyond mad. He was seeing red. His claws came out, sharp and menacing, ready to rip.

But then he saw her glistening eyes, and he sensed her sentiments. She was hurt, she was mad, she was in pain and she was in denial. But she was also aroused, desiring him. She was embarrassed. Oh fuck, she wanted him. She liked him, a lot apparently but his veela obsession was just not enough for her.

How wrong was she? It was the exact opposite. In reality their roles were switched. He was the fucking loser who was in love with the oblivious girl. And the girl was just lusting over him to an extent. Bloody ironic.

Still fuming, he brought his hands up in surrender and groaned, "You couldn't be more wrong, you silly girl. I am in love with you."

Before he could continue his statement to convince her of his feelings, she slapped him. Oh that temperamental witch. He was going through a whirlwind of extreme emotions that rendered him speechless.

Regret obvious in her still fire raging eyes, she cried, "Don't mock me. You don't love me. This is not love, you lying bastard."

He grabbed her arms in a hard bruising grip and pushed her against the wall, "You don't believe me?"

"Not for a second.", her eyes flashed.

He punched the wall beside her head, and winced with pain. Looking down at her, he couldn't grasp the fact that he was in a hopeless mess. She would never believe him. He hadn't ever given her any reason to. By Merlin he had always been the biggest jerk to her, her friends. Mocking her existence, since the day he had met her.

So he couldn't blame her for her mistrust but this was pure torment for his tortured soul. His plan A had burnt to ashes. Disappointing failure.

Taking a deep calming breath, he closed his eyes. And realized, as the muggle saying goes, it was time to bring in the big guns. Time to switch to plan B.

 **...**

 **A/N**

 **This chapter was really hard for me to write. I hope y'all liked it.**

 **Please review. It would mean a lot.**

 **Thank you for everyones support and encouragement.**

 **I'll upload the next chapter soon.**

 **Be kind.**

 **Love,**

 **Anna**


	13. Incineration

**Infernal Dominion**

 **13\. Incineration**

 _ **Diclaimer: Mature Content. Get the hell outta here if you are underage.**_

 _ **...**_

 _ **"Together they burned, with passion, brighter than the stars."**_

 **...**

The storm outside was in perfect accordance with his mood, roaring and raging. He had left Hermione in their bedroom, after forcing her to agree to stay right there till he gets back, and was now lounging in his study. If it had been anyone else, he would've made her prosmise, but she was too gryffindorsy to break her word.

He knew, everything good comes with hardwork and commitment. However, he didn't know this particular feat needed him to bare his soul.

Berty was standing in front of him, kneeling in fact. He had the vial with the clear liquid in his hands. Taking it from him, Malfoy looked at the clear potion. Debating on this decision of his. Maybe it was the easy way out, the cowards way. But this instant, it felt like the toughest decision of his existence. This could, in all honesty, make or break his life.

Getting off the chair, vial still in hand, he 'acciod' two crystal wine goblets. From his wine collection, adorning the entire left wall of his study, he quickly picked up the half full bottle of cognac. Before he could change his mind, he swiftly left the office.

He smiled when he saw her standing right where he had left her, ten minutes ago. Maybe she was having an inner turmoil as well.

He took her hand in his and walked her to the bed. They both sat down and he gave her a calculating look. Filling both the goblets, he gave her one and she eyed it quizzically. He brought the vial out of his pocket and poured the watery liquid in his goblet. Without a word, he downed half of his goblet and then fixed his stormy gaze on her.

"Ask away."

She frowned but then caught up his remark and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Veritaserum.", she gasped.

He could see she was flabbergasted. Hermione bit her lip and just to clear her conscience, she told him, "You could back out, you know. This is rather extreme. I don't want to force honest answers out of you."

He snapped, "Oh yes, you do. You are Hermione Granger and you want answeres to everything, no matter how. So just ask, alright."

She flinched at his harsh tone and quipped, "Malfoy, I am willingly giving you a way out. We'll work our issues out some other way."

"Hermione", he groaned.

"What?"

"Ask the damn question. I know you are itching to."

"Fine", she fired.

Glaring at him, she snapped, "Do you love me". Her voice cracked at the word love.

His life was a gray zone, a convoluted mess. But this question was so simple and easy to answer, like breathing or blinking.

He fixed his eyes on her, exposing his soul and softly whispered, "Yes."

She jumped, her pulse racing now, "As a Veela or as Malfoy?"

Still holding her gaze, he replied stonily, "It's one and the same thing now Hermione. But I love you as a Veela."

Deliberately pausing, he kept his eyes fixed, unblinking, until she blushed and then continued, "and as Draco Malfoy."

She was speechless, but her eyes sparkled and she asked meekly, "Since when?"

He is a very meticulous person, thinking things in too much detail, leaving nothing to chance. But lately he hadn't been his usual self, courtesy of the brunette sitting beside him. That's the reason why he didn't think past confessing his love to her after chugging veriteserum. He didn't wish to answer her question, it was too damn embarassing and gives her so much hold. He kept his mouth shut. He tried to resist answering but his throat was burning now.

He shut his eyes and contradicted bitterly that as if she doesn't already have too much power over him, as if he wouldn't be fine with that as long as she was still there to abuse her influence.

His throat was on fire and he had no choice but to whisper the answer, "Sincefourthyear."

"Beg pardon. What was that?"

Gritting his teeth, he spit "Since our fourth year at Hogwarts. Yule ball to be exact."

She was struck on spot. Petrified. Her chest heaving, her hands shaking.

A minute passed. And there was no change.

Another passed. Malfoy was getting agitated by her lack of response to his monumental confession, the half-empty glass of veriteserum still clutched in his hand.

More time passed and Hermione Granger didn't even move an inch. Deliberating whether a person could die of shock, he didn't catch her slowly rising emotions until they hit him with a blast.

She was brimming with overwhelming joy and dripping with affection for him. He rose his eyes and looked into her shining teary eyes.

He was beyond amazed and delightfully relieved that he does stand a chance to happiness. Things were finally heading towards the right path. She was willing now. With time she will fall deeply for him, he'll ensure that. He won't let this opportunity go to waste; he promised to himself.

And then she hit him with the softest kiss on the lips. But before he could assuage his rising desire, she pulled back and breathed, "I love you too Draco."

He knew her intentions were good but irritation at being lied to, clawed at him. Tempering his anger, he harshly retorted, "Don't lie to me Hermione. You don't have to. I know you like me and that's fine for me. For now."

Narrowing her eyes, she tilted her head and gave him a sharp measuring stare. Without breaking the gaze, she took his hand, goblet still in grasp and drank the remaining drink. As if that wasn't shock enough, she leaned forward and breathed in his ear, huskily, "I love you baby."

He was definitely dead and this was some kind of a limbo where devious souls are shown their deepest darkest desires, before they are thrown in hell. Because there was no way that she was in love with him. Also, he would bever be allowed in heaven. Her pretty laugh brought him back to reality and he kept staring at her like a dumb fool.

Minutes elapsed before he finally croaked, "What?

She just nodded with a megawatt smile on her face, telling him this is for real.

"How? When?"

She chewed the inside of her cheek, deliberating on her answer and then responded softly, "I don't know how or when it happened. My love for you crept up inside me so slowly, so secretively that I didn't even realize it until you showed me that beautiful, breathtaking hill view and told me about it's significance."

It took him some time to process all that and then he let go his held breath and whispered, "Why?"

She laughed in his face, her giggle like music to his ears, "You are seriously asking me why I love you?"

He wanted to understand why she fell for him, when his morals were drastically different from hers. He was not sickly good like Potter or painfully sweet like Weasel. Heck, he wasn't even a gentleman like Victor fucking Krum or funny the way Finnigan was. So why? What did she see in him?

Despite her initial laughter, she was intently pondering on his question, her eyebrows narrowed in concentration. And then she replied in the softest of voice, "It's the little things that you do without even knowing. The way you are protective of me. You hold me tight even in your sleep. The way you look at me, seeking my opinion about everything. I love you because you are incredibly smart and you challenge me. You tugged my heart when you defended me in front of your parents. I was astounded by your gentleness when you held me in the ballroom. You have forged your life right, whilst living in the heart of sin and that's admirable. Despite everything, you are taking care of your parents. You have grown into a really good man. And if these aren't reasons enough I love you because you make me feel special, needed. You make me feel as if I matter Draco."

His mind was on an overdrive, a blur of colors and emotions that he could not put into words so he mumbled, "Thank Fuck." and smacked his lips on her awaiting ones.

She shuddered in his arms and responded to his fervent kisses with matching aggression. Having her compliant, willing in his embrace, made him crave her with a fire burning vigor. His erection was painfully hard and he wanted her too much to suppress his raging need. His resolve to wait crumbled like a deck of cards. He looked into her dilated pupils, silently questioning, begging her assent.

Her slight nod and a breathless yes was all he needed, and he ripped her clothes off, buttons flying everywhere. It was no time to be gentle. Sweet love can come later. Right now he needed her to burn and scream for him. Roving his piercing steel eyes over her stark body, he shivered with absolute delight at her natural perfection. She was encapsulation of beauty. She was exactly the way he would've made her, had he been God. Petite. Soft. Sun-kissed skin. Flawless.

Throwing her lightly on the silk covered bed, he desperately got rid of his clothes and got on top of her. Trailing a line of kisses from her lips to her neck, he graoned, "You'll be the death of me Hermione Granger."

She shivered and with soft hands brought his face in line with hers and kissed him with unadulterated ardour.

Her seething kisses were boiling his body, it was so hot, so sinfully pleasurable that it was bordering on painful. The veela in him forcefully pushing to take control and this time he acquiesced. They had a mating ritual to perform after all. Giving her one last look to see if she had any last-minute doubts, he was humbled to see her breathing heavily, desiring him with such blazing passion.

His teeth got sharp and pointed into fangs. Trying to sooth the pain before causing it, he licked her neck, at her pulse point, and then bit her hard, his fangs puncturing her skin. Red hot blood oozed out of the sharp bite wound and he sucked hard, drawing her addictive blood into his awaiting mouth. Too far gone into the depths of equal amounts of pain and pleasure, she shrieked like she had never before and writhed helplessly beneath him.

Bringing his blood-stained lips a breath away from her, he whispered, "Bite me love. Hard."

It was essential for their bonding that she had a taste of his blood too. She whimpered, still dazed due to the pain slash pleasuring experience. He kissed her gently and awaited the sharp bite, which when came, made him growl in her sweet mouth. The instant that she tasted his blood, their minds becames one.

It was earth-shattering, it was puzzling, it was unbelievable. It was, oh so very very, intimate. Their thoughts were a jumble, each influencing and interfering with the other. Profoundly pleasurable for both, as both were experiencing heights of hunger and love, making the sensations two-fold.

Half the process being completed, next half was the easier part and much more self-serving. He couldn't wait much longer to initiate that primal act. Straying his hands over her body, passing her delightful curves, her breathing laboured. Adjusting himself, he looked into her eyes, his obsession, love, passion transparent in his inflamed gaze and every passing thought.

She was moaning, waiting, begging for his touch and he obliged without further delay. Ramming his entire length in her, in one stroke, he grumbled incoherently as in that heady moment, they were one, physically and mentally.

Sharing the overpowering connection, subdued him. It crumbled the last vestige of doubt that he had, not in her but in himself. His entire reality shifted and right then, he understood his incarnal, all-consuming love for Hermione Granger.

Moving inside her, he forced a moan out of her. Then he really started moving and she came for him, spectacularly, screaming his name. Her climax pushed him over the edge and he came inside her.

Their eyes locked, and he projected his most honest thought at her, 'I love you' and he was shattered at it being reciprocated.

For some reason, their telepathic confessions this time meant so much more.

So, he pleasured her to another climax, this time he was a gentle lover. And she came, so dramatically. And he made her come again.

And again.

 **...**

Sated and exhausted, they were laying contentedly in each others arms. Malfoy still couldn't believe the exceptional turn of events and kissed Hermione's head to assure himself that he was dwelling in reality.

Hermione was silently drawing lines on his bare chest with her forefinger. He noticed she was writing something but before he could register what, she spoke, "I am sorry Draco."

He tightened his arm around her and looked down into her sleepy eyes, "What for?"

She had tears in her eyes now and he stopped breathing, "For being too embarassed and scared to let you in. I kept my thoughts from you and you couldn't share yours before mating. I am sorry for being cagey and distrustful of your love. I cannot imagine what we both must have been going through if you hadn't taken veritaserum. I am infinitely ashamed of my stubborn skepticism and what you had to endure because of me. I am truly sorry."

Blown away by her honesty and crammed with respect for his lovely girl, he brushed her tears away and kissed every inch of her face. "You have made me extremely happy Hermione and if I had to wait my entire life to achieve this incredulous joy, I would've. For you, I would have Hermione."

She looked into his eyes and gripped his hand in her small ones. Thanking him with her love-struck eyes, she kissed his knuckles. And that small gesture of adoration meant the world to him.

She laid her head on his chest and drifted into a deep slumber.

Before he zoned out, the last thought that passed his mind was the word that Hermione had drawn on his chest. 'Mine'. Oh, a possessive Hermione was scary but sexy as hell.

 **...**

 **A/N**

 **Hey guys**

 **How was that?**

 **In the start you all hated Draco and then you guys began to like him and then after the last chapter you all were pissed at Hermione. I had to make the transition slow and progressive and not sudden so that it was believable.**

 **This chapter was so hard for me to write. I hope you all liked this chapter. Please let me know. Review.**

 **I am sorry about all the mistakes that I made. I dont know how the beta thing works.**

 **I'll update really soon.**

 **Thanks for your support.**

 **Love,**

 **Anna**


	14. Labyrinth

**Infernal Dominion**

 **14\. Labyrinth**

 ** _"It's a burn, it's a fix, it's a craving, it's a never-ending itch."_**

There is no better way to leave the heaven of sleep than soft sweet pecks on the neck. That is how he woke up this particular morning and that is the reason why he still had such an unreasonable smile on his face, three hours later.

The look of such horror on Blaise's face brought Draco out of his daydreaming.

"What has gotten into you mate? You are awfully cheery. It's disturbing really."

Giving him a tight smile, he spoke, "It's nothing."

Even though he knew he could trust Zabini, blindly, he didn't wanna share anything about Hermione with anyone.

"Yeah right."

Choosing to ignore Zabini's remark, he asked bossily, "Where are we with the marketing of our new franchise?"

A shadow of irritation passed Zabini's face but then he composed himself. His mate doesn't like to be kept in the dark. But he calmly reported, "It's going fine. The response so far is positive."

"Positive!", Draco leaned forward and spat. "I don't want positive Blaise. I want people in a frenzy to buy new robes. I expect better from you. You have fifteen days to report back with much much better than 'positive'."

Blaise glared at Draco but nodded and stood up to leave.

Draco didn't feel bad for his attitude. This was business, you can't afford to be nice. Blaise was a friend, probably his only close friend but he was also a business associate and he understood that.

So being done with the meeting, he asked Blaise, "Can you arrange a table for two at the club?"

It was an out of courtesy question, he already knew the answer.

As if the whole previous conversation never happened, Blaise smirked and said, "Yeah. What do you have in mind?"

Rolling his eyes, he drawled, "Just a dinner with my date. "

Blaise arched a brow and quipped, "Who?"

Malfoy sighed, "Hermione."

A flicker of an expression flashed across Zabini's face but it was gone before Malfoy could pinpoint what it was.

Back to his boisterous Blaise self, he smirked and took an exaggerate bow. Malfoy pointed his middle finger and Blaise left his office laughing.

He didn't give a fuck what Blaise thought about Hermione but he wanted Hermione to have a blast tonight. It would be their first dinner date and he prayed that it would be everything that Hermione desired and then some.

Picking up the latest Project charter, he tried to rid his thoughts of Hermione. A couple of minutes of utmost concentration passed and then he cursed loudly because, the word 'adventure' in the statement made his perverted mind, to drift to some very colorful adventures that he desired to go on, with Hermione.

Shutting the folder, he banged his fist on the table. She was running in his damn bloodstream, like a virus that never leaves, only multiplies and takes over.

He wished she could feel as badly, as he does or at the very least understand the never-ending depth of his affection. It had hardly been three hours and he wanted to fuck her again. Damn.

When is this day going to end?

 **...**

He was in a shitty mood, when he reached home. It had been a sorely slow day. Entering the Manor, he immediately strode towards the staircase, but raised voices coming from the dining hall, made him stop in his tracks.

Is that Hermione yelling? His heart skipped and he bolted towards the closed doors. Banging the door open, with a kick, he came face to face with a very comical picture. One of the house-elves was groveling between two very angry people. A glaring Lucius and a fuming, blazing, mad Hermione.

"What's going on?", he asked carefully. He did not want to know.

He cringed at Hermione's shriek, "Mr Malfoy is, quite honestly, being a cruel ass to Poppy."

"Who?"

Lucius snickered and Hermione lost it. She yelled with her hands in the air, "Aaargh!" And stomped out of the room.

He did not see this coming. He should have though, because having Lucius Malfoy and Hermione Granger under the same roof was bound to explode.

His bad mood took a turn for the worst. Shaking his head in disappointment at his father, he turned and stormed after Hermione. Malfoy could not comprehend Hermione's anger. Why was she so pissed? Because they don't particularly mistreat the house-elves. They don't love and cuddle them, of course, but they don't hurt them. Not anymore. So why was she raging like a maniac?

Entering their bedroom, his eyes searched for Hermione and pinned on her sitting near the fireplace. She was breathing heavily, her eyes shut, her posture somber. His heart tugged, he did not like the sight of her sad. He also couldn't fathom why she was so uncontrollably riled, surely not just over house-elves.

He was pissed. He had an unending day at the office and now he had to deal with a turbulent Hermione. He towered over her and his shadow made her open those molten chocolate eyes of hers. She narrowed her eyes in slight irritation and he lost it.

"What the fuck, Hermione? Such exasperation!", Malfoy snarled.

Her expression changed, from anger to confusion. She bit her bottom lip, very prettily, distracting him. He was mercury around her.

"I had a long uneventful day and then Lucius was insulting Poppy."

Hermione had a long day too, "Why? Did you miss me?"

He already knew the answer. It was the same as his, but he wanted her to acknowledge that. He wanted the confession out of her lips. So he waited, scrutinizing, patiently.

She looked into his eyes, blushed, and looked away. She fidgeted and bit her bottom lip, nervously. Then she sighed and whispered, "Yes! Yes I missed you Draco. I have been distracted the whole day. It's very disconcerting."

He tried to suppress but failed and burst into a boyish laugh. Their feelings weren't exactly in line. They weren't even on the same paragraph but maybe they were on the same page. It was more than enough. More than anything he ever desired or deserved.

Merlin, he loved her with a ferocious intensity and he adored her with profound gentleness. And the ambivalence was astounding.

Malfoy leaned into Hermione, put his hands on her soft cheeks and kissed her. As soon as their lips touched, things escalated. His forever present need for her became unbearable. Hermione reciprocated his passion and they didn't even bother to tumble towards the bed. They went on for hours right there, right in front of the crackling fire.

"Tell me you love me.", he breathed huskily while rubbing her arm.

Hermione passed her hand through his hair, across his ear and jaw and replied sweetly, "I love you so much Draco. It's overwhelming."

"Yeah love, I know the feeling."

 **...**

They were late. Apparently napping in front of the hearth is too damn cozy. They woke up late and getting ready for the dinner date took Hermione some time. She never spends that much time getting ready but he understood when she came out of the dressing room. All silver and green, breathtakingly gorgeous, eyes full of love and lips wide with smile. She was a vision to behold.

"You look dapper.", she mused and gave him a peck on the cheek.

He smiled again, which was unintentional and too frequent since yesterday. "Hermione, you look striking, especially in my colors."

"Your colors?", she burst out laughing.

"Yup!", he nodded.

Genuine smile still plastered on her face, she breathed helplessly, "I really love you."

Oh man! He was in heaven. No, scratch that, he was in the best spot in heaven. "I really love you too."

"Are you ready to face the society?", Malfoy sighed.

"Yeah. I mean it cannot get any worse than the gala at Theodore's place, right?", she quipped nervously.

He had made sure that tonight won't cause Hermione any trouble. He'd kill someone tonight if they stressed her out, in any way. Tonight's date had to go perfect. Holding her soft compliant hand they apparated right outside Blaise Establishment.

With their first foot in, they were the center of attention. It was the between the lines, subtle limelight that they were subjected to. He sighed and cursed quietly because he couldn't do anything about it. He quickly crossed the crowded area and took her to their table in the corner and they both settled in.

He knew they'll be news tomorrow, being both trashed and applauded. But the warm glow around them, the shadows distancing them from the surroundings, the soft music, their heartbeats in sync and their thoughts grazing turned the mood into a sensual one.

Hermione and Draco, they talked, they drank, they ate, the danced, they kissed and they talked some more. Well Hermione talked mostly, Malfoy just listened. He was content in listening to her and devoured every bit of her life's story. Each next sentence made him fall for her even more, made him so proud of her. She truly was the smartest woman of her age. The things she had done, the things she had accomplished and the utter honesty of her path to success was awe-inspiring. And he questioned himself for the millionth time that how did a fucker like him got so lucky?

She told him about her childhood, how simple and perfect it was. She told him about every year at Hogwarts and every detail about her adventures with Potter and Weasley. Those stories made him realize two things, one how lucky the whole Wizarding world had been, that Potter had had Hermione fighting alongside him, and two how strong their bond of friendship is. It made him yearn for something like that because even though he had a great friend in Blaise, it was absolutely nothing compared to those three.

As the night progressed, Hermione turned the conversation around. She started asking him questions and hers were the hard ones. She asked about his childhood. He was never good with sharing especially the bad shit, but with Hermione it wasn't difficult at all. It felt natural. It felt right so he told her everything, the good and the bad. He explained how it had been nice and privileged for the early few years before Lucius became a tyrant, albeit from his fear and bad choices.

She asked about his life under Voldemort's reign and he told her honestly, how diligently he wanted to please and how desperately he wanted a way out in the end. How he felt jealous over the bond of friendship that apparently all Gryffindors had. He opened up completely and confessed that he had always had only one true friend and even he was not a very close one.

He wasn't being a sissy, pitying himself or trying to make Hermione feel bad for him. He absolutely did not want that from her. He just wished to make her understand and see his side of the game. She did, because by the time he was done speaking, she had tears in her eyes and his hand clutched in her tiny ones.

The feeling of utter relief and the certainty that he had someone, unconditionally, by his side was euphoric. His love for Hermione was like a labyrinth, that has no end to its depth.

Silently, they got up and without even considering their surroundings, left for home. They didn't speak for the rest of the night, well at least not in the literal sense. Their bodies, however, sang till the late hours of the morning.

 **...**

 **A/N**

This chapter is dedicated to **midnightweeds**. You are awesome.

I am so so sorry guys for the late update. I had been busy in exams.

I hope y'all like this chapter.

Please leave a review. It would mean the world to me.

Thank you so much for all your support and kindness.

I am sorry for the mistakes. Also, sorry if this chapter was too cheesy.

I'll upload the next chapter super soon.

Thanks again.

Love,

Anna


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